


This is not a drill!

by SkirtWithAWeapon



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 76
Genre: Explicit Language, Fallout 76 - Freeform, Gen, High School, Teens, fallout bombs drop fic, fallout dooms day, queer content, teen drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkirtWithAWeapon/pseuds/SkirtWithAWeapon
Summary: Friday, October 23, 2077, was just another school day for Marvin Donner at Morgantown High -- of course, until the bomb sirens went off.  Suddenly and without warning, the military descended upon his school, and soldiers were not just herding, but forcefully detaining the student body in the gymnasium with no explanation as to why.  As time passes, and the nuclear fallout spreads its deadly radiation across West Virginia, Marvin and his classmates discover that the military is not keeping them for their own safety, but to conduct a twisted government-ordered experiment.  Marvin struggles to gain a grip of this new reality, while navigating a confusing emotional landscape, and being careful to remain in the military's good books...at least, long enough to be able to tell the story.





	1. Chapter 1

Marvin was nearly squirming in his seat during the last half of Atomic Trigonometry -- and the worst of it was, it was only the first period of the day. He’d committed himself to finally asking Cynthia D’itangelo if she’d be his date for the big Halloween Social and Dance hosted by Vault Tec U that coming weekend, and for better or worse, he was going to follow through.

He didn’t know what she’d say and had reached the point where he wanted it over with.

He sighed, propping his cheek on his fist, and took to tapping out a rhythmic “tip-ta-tip, tip-ta-tip” on the surface of his desk with the end of his pencil. Mr. Berkshire continued to teach the lesson, coming to a natural conclusion with the diagram he was scraping onto the board with his chalk, then wrote the final solution to the equation. He turned to look back at the class, and if he was met with blank stares in return, he showed no sign.

“So, for Monday, please complete exercises seven through eighteen on page one hundred and twelve, and be prepared to submit hard copy. Remember to show your work, and if it says to draw a chart, I expect a chart.” Berkshire scanned his audience, looking for signs of comprehension. He paused when his gaze found Marvin. “I’m sorry, Mr. Donner, am I boring you?”

Marvin immediately ceased his tapping and flushed. “No, sir. Sorry.”

Dottie Winkler, in the desk to his right, snickered. If he didn’t know she was a spoiled brat and overall bully, he’d have thought she was flirting with him. He ignored her.

Mr. Berkshire pursed his lips. He turned back to the rest of the class. “You have until the end of the period to work independently. And _ quietly. _” With that, he returned to his desk, situated diagonally against the corner of the room, shuffled his papers around, and said nothing more.

“You seem nervous, old boy,” Dottie hissed. She was leaning comically across the aisle to whisper to him. “Something on your mind? You gonna ask out that girl you’ve been doodling about for weeks?”

“I...what?” Marvin muttered. He looked down at his notebook and sure enough, staring back at him was a pencil sketch of Cynthia, with her shoulder-length hair that curled just perfectly on top of her shoulders, her bangs swept to the side, her lips set in a quaint open-mouthed smile that reached her eyes. He flushed even deeper and slammed his notebook shut. “None of your business, Dottie.”

“Mr. Donner!” Berkshire barked from the front of the room. “Do I need to repeat myself? Or perhaps you’d like to start the weekend off in detention?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. Dottie was asking for my notes because she didn’t take any during the lecture.”

Dottie made a throaty noise of protest. She whipped herself back upright in her seat and opened her mouth to reply, but Mr. Berkshire raised his hand, insisting on silence. There were a few snickers from his classmates sitting behind them. Marvin closed his mouth and bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from following suit. Berkshire cleared his throat in a threatening manner and the class immediately quieted down.

Marvin glanced at the clock for the millionth time. Fifteen more minutes left of class, then he’d dash to his locker, check his hair in the lavatory, then make his way to band class and casually ask Cynthia to the dance while she prepped her reed for her clarinet…

...wait, was that such a great idea? People didn’t tend to be able to talk with their reeds in their mouths. 

His stomach clenched.

Was it such a great idea to ask her in front of the class, anyway? He’d be a little extra embarrassed if she said no, and everyone heard…

His hands began to tremble. _ Why didn’t I think this through? What a terrible plan! _Marvin gripped his pencil so tightly, his knuckles were turning white.

“Mr. Berkshire!” cried Evelyn Thomas from her seat next to a window, her arm straight up in the air like an arrow. “Shouldn’t we be making our way to the fallout shelter? Isn’t it a drill?”

“Ms. Thomas, for the last time, there weren’t any scheduled bomb drills this week,” Berkshire sighed from his desk. “Now if you’d all please just focus on --”

“No, I hear it, too,” Rodney McGuinness interrupted, whose desk was directly behind Marvin’s. “It’s the bomb sirens, but they’re going off in town.”

Evelyn required no invitation to spring up from her chair and fling the window wide open. Despite the unseasonably warm weather they’d experienced all month, October 23 dawned chilly, and the classroom windows had been left shut for first period. The entire class had turned their heads and became silent, listening.

Sure enough, the drone and wail of the bomb sirens could be heard on the breeze, coming from the main town. There was a sudden, nearly-unison scrape of chairs and scuttle of sneakers on linoleum as the students rushed to the windows, sliding them all open. “Take it easy, now,” Mr. Berkshire advised, slowly rising from his own chair, seemingly attempting to remain calm. Marvin noticed all the colour had drained from the instructor’s face. He had also risen and joined his classmates at the windows. Rodney had hunched himself, his ear pressed against the plastic screen, with Dottie pressed next to him, who was merely shooting her gaze back and forth.

“Something’s definitely going on,” cried Lenny Donovan. He was pointing at the Red Rocket station, down the street and on the corner, where there was some mild congestion at the coolant pumps and higher than normal amount of traffic for a Friday morning on the road. Someone was laying on the klaxxon; suddenly a small Corvega shot out from the line of cars, squealing into the intersection. An unsuspecting sedan crossing the intersection with its right of way had no time to swerve and took the impact on its passenger’s side, creating a tumultuous crash and resulting in both cars smashing into the oncoming traffic, thus causing a several-vehicle pile up. Many of the teenagers, observing from their classroom windows, gasped in shock and horror.

“Please return to your seats,” Mr. Berkshire squawked, but the uncertainty in his voice was threaded through it quite thickly.

The piercing sound of the school’s own bomb sirens filled their heads. Marvin involuntarily flinched and covered his ears. Several of his classmates paled and began to look around. The principal’s voice crackled over the school-wide speaker system. “This is not a drill,” she said crisply. “I repeat, this is not a drill. The military has confirmed there has been a...several...nuclear strikes on our country. Again, this is not a drill.”

“What did she say?” shrieked Evelyn, who was grasping the front of her blouse over her heart. “What did she _ say?!” _

“Nukes, oh my god, it’s happened, it’s happening, it’s happening,” rambled Lenny.

“Nukes?” parroted Dottie. “No, no way, that’s not possible.”

“Listen!” barked Berkshire over the slow rumble of student voices. The principal was still talking.

“Remain calm. Evacuate your classrooms to the fallout shelter, immediately. Faculty are required to check in at the shelter, no exceptions. Students, this is just like we’ve practiced, file slowly and calmly to--”

The class broke. A handful of the students in Atomic Trigonometry burst through the door to the hallway without a second glance at the bookbags and other belongings they were leaving behind. Marvin felt as though the whole building had erupted in sound and vibration.

“Everyone just stay calm, just like Principal Margaret said, just like the drills, all right? This is just like a drill,” Mr. Berkshire was bleating from the front of the room, scooping papers and books off of his desk into his briefcase. His attempts at keeping order were futile; no one was calm. Marvin had broken out into a panicked sweat and a huge lump had formed in his throat. He returned to his own desk and mechanically packed his text, his notebook, his algebraic instrument set, and his pencil box all into his knapsack. He heard clattering from around the room; when he looked up, he noticed Mr. Berkshire was gone. Lenny had tossed all notion of calm to the wind, grabbed his bookbag, and knocked over the bookshelf by the door on his way out to the hallway. It landed against the nearby desk, spilling its contents into a puddle of books onto the floor and causing Rodney to jump out of its way. Sounds of general chaos, shuffling, scuffling, and shrieking were filtering through beyond the door. The bomb siren continued to wail and wane.

Evelyn had collapsed into a total blubbering mess at the window, incapable of doing anything but cry. Mandy Miller was comforting her, trying to coax her friend to pack her bag and accompany her to the fallout shelter. Dottie was still at the windows, her forehead pressed against the glass, watching the anarchy bloom in the streets. Marvin shouldered his knapsack, and against his better judgment, joined her. He glanced over at the door to the hallway, watching students and faculty shove their way past, yelling at each other. It didn’t seem as though he would be able to make his way down to the bomb shelter in those conditions, as it was; may as well hope the crowd thinned out soon.

“Look!” Dottie cried, pointing towards the main entrance and the school bus drop off. Half a dozen large military vehicles had materialized and seemed to be cutting off the school from the main road. Soldiers had disembarked and were setting up metal barriers. A number of students appeared to have decided against the fallout shelter and were fleeing the building. One of the soldiers, who no doubt had some militaristic authority, was attempting to stem the flow, barking orders through a megaphone for the students to fall back and return to the building. Both Dottie and Marvin were silent as they observed the scene, below. It wasn’t easy to hear the sergeant, despite the megaphone, over the blaring of the school’s own bomb alarm.

“I said, fall back, and return to the school, now! We have been given the order to contain and protect you, all of you -- sir! Do not attempt to flee, my regiment has been instructed to fire at will against deserters, do you understand?! Sir!” the sergeant bellowed. Suddenly, a familiar figure that had hesitated, instead took off at a run. It was Mr. Berkshire.

“How did he get downstairs so fast?” Marvin muttered. Dottie screamed and covered her mouth. A barrage of bullets scattered off various sources; all they could see for certain was the spray of blood shooting out from their former teacher’s body before it fell to the ground. Dottie screamed again, wrenching her gaze from the window. She stumbled to the back of the classroom and retched noisily into the wastepaper basket in the corner. Evelyn escalated her hysteria. Mandy merely murmured and pat her friend on the back in consolation.

“Marv, what are you still doing in here?” cried a familiar voice from the door. Marvin wrenched his attention from the window to see his best friend, Lucas Farrington, picking his way over the toppled furniture at the classroom door. It was also the moment he realized that Eveyln, Mandy, Dottie, and himself were the only people left from the class still in the room.

“The soldiers are shooting people,” Marvin blurted stupidly.

Lucas paused. He was taller than Marvin, a magnificent six foot two, with brown curly hair that seemed to always be in the right place at the right time. He blinked, then took another step into the room, before stopping once more. “Well, that’s terrible, but the army’s actually inside the fucking school, dude, and they’re going to want people to be in that fallout shelter pronto.” Lucas glanced to his left, finally noticing Dottie in the corner, who had straightened up and was gingerly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. He cocked an eyebrow. “You pregnant? Your boyfriend ‘forget’ to use a rubber?”

“Go jump off a cliff, Lucas,” Dottie growled.

“Whoa, did I hit a nerve?”

“Would you two shut up? She’s not even worth it!” Marvin cried in exasperation. “What were you saying about the soldiers being inside the school?”

“Huh? Oh, that they’re rounding people up, and maybe we don’t want to be standing around when --”

“Hey, you in there! Students!” chirped a gruff and masculine voice from the door. Sure enough, as Lucas predicted, a jackbooted and uniformed soldier was standing there with a severe look on their face. “You were instructed to assemble in the fallout shelter! Unless you’re injured to the point of requiring assistance to leave this area, you need to vacate this classroom right now!”

Marvin wasn’t inclined to argue, after the scene he witnessed outside. Dottie seemed to be of the same mind, and rather than spit some sassy retort, snatched up her bookbag and purse and dutifully marched out of the classroom and into the hallway. He caught Lucas’ eye; the latter raised his eyebrow and very subtly nodded his head backward toward the door, silently telling Marvin to move his damn feet. Marvin swallowed and mechanically made his way past the rows of desks towards the door.

“What’s wrong with her? Does she need a medic?” the solider was demanding of Mandy, referring to Evelyn.

“She’s okay, sir, she’s just scared,” Mandy replied in a small voice. Marvin paused just past the door, intending to hang back, but Lucas tugged on his sleeve.

“Let the army guy handle it, Marv,” his friend hissed in his ear. “We don’t want to piss them off.”

“I noticed,” Marvin murmured in response. He’d had many classes together with Evelyn over the years, and while they weren’t exactly close friends, he felt a kinship with his colleague as a result.

Lucas was strongly tugging on Marvin’s sleeve by then. “She’ll be fine. Probably.”

They made their way down the hall to join the slowly moving throng oozing down the stairs towards the main floor and the gymnasium, which housed the fallout shelter. There was a distinct scent in the air of what seemed to be a combination of terror sweat, cheaply scented cosmetics, and burned coffee. The atmosphere was stuffy, as it always was when they ran their drills; it was impossible to cram so many bodies into limited space and not have the temperature rise as a result, particularly when the population was made up primarily of pubescent, hormonal bodies.

A thought occurred to him. “How did you know I was still in class?” Marvin asked, raising his voice over the alarm.

“I didn’t,” Lucas smirked. “But we always met at our lockers during a drill, to make sure the other was okay, remember? When you didn’t turn up, I checked the last place I thought you were going to be, and I was right.”

“...oh. Right.” Marvin flushed slightly, readjusting his knapsack once more. “We heard the sirens in town go off and I guess with the announcement, I got a little distracted.”

Lucas waited until the siren waned slightly before continuing. “You heard other sirens, first? Hot damn, that’s wild! Why did it take so long for us to find out, then?” His voice took on a dramatic, sarcastic tone. “Are we, the children, _ not _ the future of America?!”

“Of course not, the rich folks who could afford a spot in the Vaults are,” chimed Clyde Stankowitz, who turned his head back to face the other two boys. “No one cares if we live or die, not even our teachers.”

Marvin had an immediate flashback to mere moments before, when Mr. Berkshire was gunned down in cold blood on the tarmac just outside the front doors. He shuddered. Clyde noticed, the surprise showing clearly on his face.

“Whoa, you all right? What happened?”

Marvin clamped his mouth shut and simply shook his head. Clyde slipped off the edge of the proceeding stair and slammed his chin into the back of the girl in front of him. Cynthia D’itangelo jolted forward and shot her hand out to the bannister, gripping it for balance. “Hey!” she squealed in protest. A jostle rippled down the throng of students, down the stairs and into the foyer. Lucas elbowed Marvin hard in the ribs, as if Marvin hadn’t finally realized he’d been just behind her this whole time.

“Continue to file into the gymnasium in an orderly fashion,” buzzed a voice through a megaphone. “Proceed to your designated groups as per the drills have taught you. Behaving in an orderly manner is both efficient and patriotic.”

Lucas nudged Marvin, again, as if prompting him to say something to Cynthia. Her back was completely turned, though, and she picked her way down off the last few stairs to the floor of the foyer. _ Besides, _ he thought, _ it’s so loud in here with the crowd and the sirens. She’d never hear a thing I’d say. _ Still, he couldn’t pry his eyes off her. She didn’t seem distraught, unlike many of the other students, merely walking along as though it were any other drill. Despite that, he wanted nothing more than to sweep his arm around her shoulders, keep her close, and tell her everything would work out.

After what seemed like an eternity, they were in the gymnasium. Lucas, Marvin, Clyde, and Cynthia all dutifully crossed the room to where the juniors were designated to group up. Marvin scanned through the room as they shuffled along. Several of the freshmen were sobbing, crunched together on the bleachers where they were supposed to gather. More than a few other students, of various ages, were pleading with the soldiers scattered through and maintaining crowd control.

One of the seniors, red-faced and stressed out, was pleading as hard as she possibly could to a soldier a good few inches shorter than she. “Please, you don’t understand, my little sister was on a field trip. Her whole elementary class was at the Uncanny Caverns; I can’t stay here, I need to go find her!”

The soldier was not moved. He raised a hand and waved her off. “No one’s allowed in or out right now, miss. I’m sure the faculty and staff at the attraction will have it all under control. I bet your parents are going to look for her right now.”

“My parents are on vacation!”

“I see.” He waved her off, once more. “Get back with your group.”

“I have our family’s car, and I know the way. Please, sir, I can’t leave her alone out there, she’s only ten years old! She needs me!”

The soldier did turn his head to look her straight in the eye, yet his face remained expressionless. “The military has closed off all the local roads, and beyond that, our country has just suffered a massive act of war. It is too dangerous out there. Besides, you have your instructions, and those are to stay here.” He shifted, not too subtly to adjust the weapon over his shoulder. “Don’t make me tell you for a third time to get into your group.”

The girl glared for a moment longer, before tossing her long ponytail back over her shoulder and turning on her heel.

The military were establishing a small center of operations at the back of the gym, in between the exit to the underground fallout shelter and the designated area for the juniors to meet up. They set up a few of the fabric privacy barriers to separate their tables with the juniors, but it was in absolutely no way at all sound proof. Lucas nodded to Marvin and Clyde towards them. Marvin watched Cynthia glide away to join up with some of the other girls and felt a pang of disappointment. Still, he liked Lucas’ train of thought much better, and decided he wanted to hear as much as he could from the military, themselves.

The bomb alarm blared on, and on. For a while, it remained similar to a regular drill, only with the added presence of the military, and...wait. Marvin reached over and touched Lucas’ arm, then leaned towards his friend’s ear. “Have you seen any of the teachers? Aren’t they supposed to be in here?”

Lucas turned and looked over the gym. “Yeah, of course I’ve seen them.”

Marvin turned and continued the visual search for the faculty, any faculty, but saw none.

Clyde spoke next. “No, they’re not in here. None of them are in here. It’s just the army.” He looked at the other two boys with an expression of confusion and horror on his face. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, they just put the faculty somewhere else, obviously,” Lucas replied casually. 

“Why?”

Marvin paled. “They don’t want the faculty. The army wants the control.” He turned to look Clyde dead in the face. “They shot Mr. Berkshire just outside the main doors. I saw the whole thing. Mr. Berkshire was just trying to leave, and they shot him.”

“Fuck me,” Clyde breathed, his eyes widening.

“Let’s not get carried away, here,” Lucas warned, his eyes darting towards the fabric barriers, indicating they may be overheard. “The army has our best interests in mind, all right?”

“Easy for you to say, your dad’s a cop!” Clyde snapped, his face flushed with sudden anger. “My mom’s a teacher! Which one do you think is more likely to get shot by the army, huh?”

Lucas forcefully gripped Clyde by the arm and pulled him further into the blob of juniors, most of whom were just chattering nervously amongst themselves. It seemed no one else had noticed the lack of faculty present within the gym. Lucas leaned down and hissed in Clyde’s ear. With the sirens and other ambient noise, Marvin had no chance of hearing what he was saying. He watched Clyde’s face turn from clenched, exposed teeth, to relax slightly, to pale. Eventually he nodded, agreeing with whatever it was that Lucas was saying to him.

“Hey! There you are,” spoke a familiar female voice from beside him with a touch on his arm. Marvin turned to the relieved face of his long time next door neighbour, Rhonda Granitestein. “When Lucas didn’t see you at your lockers, he got worried.”

“Yeah, I know. He found me in class. Things got...weird.” The sound and image of Mr. Berkshire being gunned down flashed through his mind, again. He swallowed.

Rhonda nodded at his knapsack. “Atomic Trig, right? I was in Chemistry.” She idly twiddled a pleat on her skirt. “People are saying that we’ll never forget the last place we were when the bombs hit. Do you think that’s true?”

“Ah...maybe?” Marvin shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see. If that bomb siren goes off any longer, though, we might find all our brains start oozing out our ears, then we’ll never remember anything.”

Rhonda laughed. “Why haven’t they turned it off, yet? All the students and staff must be down here, by now.”

“I wish I knew.”

“Rhonda! You look so pretty, today!” gushed Cynthia, who appeared out of the crowd. Marvin’s heart immediately began beating faster. “I’ve been looking for you. Can I borrow your notes from this morning, again? You always take down so many details.”

“I just write down everything that Ms. Yen writes down,” Rhonda shrugged. “Besides, I doubt you’re going to need my notes.”

“What?” Cynthia cocked her head like a confused puppy. “Why?”

Rhonda blinked. “Er, because, I have a feeling we won’t have class on Monday, meaning there’s no homework.”

“Why wouldn’t we have class on - ohhhh, because of the bombs? You think it’ll take that long to get it all cleaned up?”

Marvin could hardly believe what he was hearing. _ She’s just in a state of shock, or denial. It hasn’t sunk in yet that the earth’s been nuked. _

_ Hell, even I don’t yet have an idea of what that means… _

Rhonda seemed to be in a similar state of confusion, but elected to attempt to break it to Cynthia gently. “They were atomic bombs, Cyn. You know, with the vaporization and total destruction and the highly toxic radioactive fallout?”

Cynthia blinked. Her shoulders sagged as she sighed, deeply. “Does that mean the dance is cancelled for tomorrow, do you think?”

Marvin opened his mouth to reply when he was suddenly yanked from behind by his knapsack strap. It was Lucas, hauling him back over to the fabric barrier, his finger to his lips and his eyes opened wide. Marvin blinked and attempted a “what?” gesture. Lucas all but flung him against the barrier and pointed, indicating the soldiers beyond it.

It was hard to hear everything, with the bomb siren still going off, but Marvin picked up enough to understand Lucas’ concern.

“...turn that thing off, already?” one of the soldiers was barking.

“Negative, lieutenant...principal had...working on the override.”

“Why can’t...do it?”

“Deceased, sir. Found in her office...44 pistol, single shell discharged, remains…”

“Christ. Do you have Hodgkins...override?”

“Indeed. There’s...problem...shelter, sir.”

The lieutenant sighed. “Continue.”

“Completely flooded, inaccessible. Macintosh is on the...pump system, appears to be...failure. Emergency system may not even have been installed.”

The lieutenant swore, again. “The whole thing? ...in at all?”

“Outlook is not positive, sir.”

Marvin stepped quickly away from the fabric barrier and threw himself onto his hands and knees, steadying his breathing, trying desperately not to throw up. The fallout shelter was completely inaccessible. The military wasn’t letting anyone leave. Who knew how much ambient fallout was starting to make its way into the building? “No,” he muttered. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Lucas was patting him on the back. “Buck up, champ! I’m sure there’s some amount of lead in the paint on the walls.”

“How can you joke about this?!”

Lucas shrugged. “What else is there to do about it?”

“Do about what?” chimed Rhonda.

“The fact that we’re all probably gonna die, and soon. Oh, and the principal killed herself.”

Rhonda covered her mouth. “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, the bomb alarm died. For the first few seconds, Marvin felt his ears ringing, but enjoyed the sweet, blissful silence. It seemed as though everyone else did, too; hardly a peep was heard throughout the entire gym. Then, suddenly, it was as though everyone began talking all at once. A booming voice, different than the lieutenant’s, came over the school’s speaker system.

“Attention students and remaining faculty of Morgantown High. I’m Colonel Stanley Maple of the US military. We have some very important announcements to make. We require your utmost attention and your strictest compliance.”


	2. Chapter 2

The crowd quieted down to a murmur. Marvin’s ears were still ringing, but he could hear all the subtle noises that accompany a large, standing crowd, and more than a few gulps and sobs. Nearly everyone had their heads turned towards the speakers hung high up in the ceiling. There was a pop, and a pause, just long enough for people to start talking again before the Colonel Maple’s voice boomed through the gymnasium once more.

“As you are all aware of by now, our great country has suffered multiple nuclear strikes in various places across the nation. Confirmations continue to roll in and we hope to have a full update in the next hour. The important thing to remember is that you are safe within the walls of this school, and until we direct otherwise, this is where you will stay in the interim.”

Shocked words and exclamations rose up from the majority of the crowd. The lieutenant from the other side of the fabric barrier lifted his megaphone. “Quiet down, now! Remain calm and silent until the conclusion of the announcements!”

“Undoubtedly, many of you will have already known that in the event of a nuclear strike, you would evacuate your classes to assemble in the fallout shelter; it should come as no surprise that you will be detained in this facility until an all-clear has been issued. This could be in a matter of days, or it could be in several months.

“The bad news is that some misfortune has befallen the fallout shelter underneath the school, rendering it completely inaccessible and therefore, unuseable. Despite this, we --”

There was an immediate uproar. Some started crying, many started yelling at their fellow students or at the soldiers. Marvin was jostled as three people shoved past him; one of them was Rodney McGuinness. Marvin watched with wide eyes as Rodney and a growing swarm of students pushed their way towards the entrance of the gym, hollering to be released, rushing the soldiers standing at the door. The solders, physically stronger and wearing heavy equipment, managed to keep their feet but were unable to move.

“Get back! I said, get back!!” roared the lieutenant through the megaphone. His cries fell on deaf ears. Completely unaware of the chaos in the gym, Colonel Maple droned on, his words washed out in the screaming.

Marvin was nearly yanked off his feet by someone pulling forcefully on his left sleeve. It was Clyde. “Let’s go, man, let’s get the fuck out of here! Come on!”

Marvin stood his ground and shook his head, his face pale. “They’ll shoot us. I saw it. They’ll shoot us!” he babbled.

Rhonda looped her arm around Marvin’s right arm and pulled with a counter force. “Marv’s right. We need to stay here until we’re told we can go.”

Clyde made a disgusted sound. “Suit yourselves.” He released Marvin and joined the throng of students pushing their way to the doors. There was a cacophony of sounds, student voices, military yelling. Rhonda’s hold on him became tighter; unconsciously he reached over and pat her arm as comfortingly as possible. There was a boom, like a bomb going off, as the soldiers at the doors were temporarily overwhelmed and the large steel doors to the gymnasium crashed open. There was a victorious cry from the crowd trying to escape as they stampeded out in a herd, shoving bystanders and fellow escapees with equal violence.

“Contain them! You are authorized to use deadly force!” bellowed the lieutenant over the megaphone. Marvin’s eyes immediately shifted to the escaping crowd, looking for Clyde.

“Clyde, get out of there, give it up!” he screamed, but it was no use, his voice merely added to the din of teenaged voices.

“CONTAIN THEM, THAT’S A DIRECT ORDER!”

Marvin watched as the soldier from earlier, who was arguing with the senior student, seemed to raise his weapon in slow motion. He shouldered his rifle and began to fire into escaping crowd. This action seemed to embolden the other soldiers, who also began to fire into the crowd. Hollering morphed into full on screeching as terror and a new sense of panic as frightened students on the sidelines watched their friends and colleagues began to scatter, and sometimes fall, in the hail of bullets. 

“Get down!” barked Lucas, who tackled both Marvin and Rhonda to the ground. Marvin landed on his head with a painful smack.

“Close those doors! Cease fire, I repeat, hold your fire!” The lieutenant maintained his authoritative voice, though Marvin thought it sounded a bit more shrill. The gunfire slowed and stopped, but the screaming, stomping, and shuffling continued.

“All of you need to calm down. Trust us to have a plan and to follow it.”

“Sir! What do we do with the injured?” asked one of the grunts, flushed and sweating after the ordeal. Marvin made to get up, but Lucas’ hand on his back was like a brick keeping him flat. The air was beginning to suffocate him, thick with gunsmoke and another metallic smell. 

The lieutenant lowered his megaphone and turned to the grunt. He shrugged. “Send them out to the foyer and let the medics decide what to do with them.” Then, as an afterthought, he added: “Anyone not dead or about to die should be brought directly to the colonel for corporal punishment for insubordination.”

Marvin balked. By his estimation, nearly half the students who had been gathered in the gym were caught up in the frenzied attempt at escape. Where would they possibly detain all those people?

“You,” barked the lieutenant. Marvin dared turn his head and saw the lieutenant addressing another one of the grunts. “Go debrief Maple what just happened in here, before a bunch of sweaty teenagers suddenly show up outside his office door.” The grunt gave a salute and took off back through the gym, picking his way through hunched bodies, other soldiers, and pools of blood.

“You guys can get up now,” chirped Cynthia in a cheerful voice. Marvin glanced up to see her standing over them, her hands on her hips. “I think it’s over, now. Did you guys know the soldiers all have real bullets?”

Cynthia’s face and neck was splattered in blood, none of which seemed to be her own. She swiped her bangs to the side in her characteristic style, smearing it into grotesque streaks across her skin. Marvin clawed his way up to his feet, turned, and dashed towards the wall where he threw up the rest of his breakfast onto the floor, narrowly missing his shoes.

“Oh god,” someone exclaimed in disgust, nearby. Marvin turned his head just in time to see another student, whose face was streaked with mascara and old tears, clutch her stomach and cover her mouth, then spew all over the floor without bothering to try and move out of the way of the small cluster of people standing nearby. There were groans of surprise and revolt, and reactionary sounds of others being sick.

“Suh-sir?” cried one of the soldiers, nervously. “What should we...oh god,” he cut himself off, covering his mouth and nose with the back of his hand.

“Someone get some buckets back here!” shouted another soldier, not the lieutenant.

“Where would we find buckets?” asked a third, sounding genuinely confused.

“Probably the janitor’s closet!” offered Cynthia, who shifted her hip to avoid being puked on by the person next to her. “Oh, my.”

“Janitor will have a mop, too,” added the lieutenant, himself. He looked between two soldiers who were merely standing there, watching in horror as the domino effect of teenaged puking was beginning to spread. “Get going before we have a flood of vomit on our hands!” The soldiers jumped and took off towards the doors.

“You okay, man?” Lucas was eyeing Marvin warily. Marvin nodded.

“What, not gonna ask _ him _ if he’s pregnant?” sneered Dottie, who had appeared from somewhere in the throng. Rhonda rounded on Lucas.

“Did you, really?” she demanded, completely appalled.

Lucas shrugged. “Let’s get you away from, uh, here,” he motioned to the puke-covered floor, from which many of the other students had pulled away from to huddle elsewhere.

Time passed slowly. Marvin looked up at the wall clock over the doors to the foyer. It had been nearly forty-five minutes since the jailbreak was quelled, and the soldiers were still dragging out bodies and mopping up. Marvin knew it meant more than a few of his colleagues had died at the hand of the army, but didn’t really know any of the ones he’d watched be pulled out of the gym. It was easier to accept, that way. After the first few minutes, Rhonda had forced him to turn his back to the activity, to keep him from watching further.

He hadn’t seen Clyde. Marvin wondered if he’d managed to get out, or simply return back into the crowd, uninjured. It seemed many of the students who had joined the push, but avoided injury, had disappeared back into the sidelines to avoid repercussion, and the soldiers weren’t interested in wasting their time hunting down individuals. Many had started to settle into their current situation by grouping together with their friends, sitting together and reading books, playing cards, some were eating. Marvin’s stomach flopped as he looked around and saw what looked like a typical break period.

“Marv! Are we dealing you in, or what?” Lenny Donovan called from behind. Lenny’s right eye was red and swollen, the beginnings of what would likely become a hearty black, blue, and purple. Marvin shrugged, shifting his knapsack as he did so.

“Why not?” Marvin lowered himself to the floor and Lenny began dealing out cards to himself, as well as Lucas, Dottie, and Rhonda. Cynthia was hovering, which made him feel fluttery with nerves. They had set themselves up just on the other side of the fabric barrier once more; Marvin doubted that was a coincidence, if Lucas was involved. “What are we playing?”

“Five-card stud,” Rhonda replied.

“I’ve never played that, is it hard?” Cynthia chirped. Someone had told her there was blood on her face, and she had since wiped it off as best she could.

Lucas and Rhonda reflexively pulled their cards to their chests to hide them. “No,” Lucas began, trying to hide his annoyance, “just try to follow along. And don’t you dare tell anyone what cards we have.”

Cynthia stuck out her tongue. “Well, I know _ that _ much, already!”

Rhonda sent Marvin a quick glance, her eyebrows raised as though to say, ‘can you believe this girl’s for real?’ Marvin offered a shy smile and slight shrug. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself, inhaling a mix of bleach, vomit, and nervous sweat.

They played a few hands quietly, Cynthia asking the occasional question, but typically reserving herself to simply observe. Marvin folded his latest hand and tossed the cards back into the middle, stretching his arms up and hearing the joints in his neck and shoulders pop. “I gotta get up for a sec,” he muttered. His backside and his knees were starting to cramp, sitting on the hardwood. Lucas didn’t look up from the game and merely waved him off. He took a few steps away from the game, listening to the conversation on the other side of the barrier.

“...asking for bathroom facilities, sir. What are your orders?”

The lieutenant sighed deeply. “Spent fifteen years in honourable, dedicated service, to be posted in a babysitting job when the fucking nuclear war finally happened.”

The grunt sounded unsure. “Sir…?”

“Escort them individually to the bathrooms, then. They go into the stall, only, alone, but otherwise they don’t leave your sight.”

The grunt cleared his throat. “We’ve had reports that the running water has stopped working. Should we…?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake -- then take them outside to shit in a bucket, and bring them back in!”

“Right outside, sir? With all the --”

“Figure it out!” the lieutenant roared. The grunt scurried away. Marvin returned to his friends, truly wondering how long they were all meant to be corralled there.

The voice of Colonel Maple boomed over the speaker system once more. “Students, listen up. We are the US Military and we will command your respect to our authority, or you will suffer fatal consequences. I will not repeat these announcements a third time. Remain calm, remain quiet, and do not move or act until I have concluded.”

Marvin swallowed. Every set of eyes was trained on the speakers, above. There was a nervous silence throughout the gym; it seemed that after the failed escape, those who remained were not about to challenge the military on their claim to enact injurious actions.

“As I said earlier, the fallout shelter originally constructed beneath your school is no longer an option. However, powers that be that direct the military, have ordered us to detain you within this facility until we receive further orders. We are not at liberty to discuss the nature of this directive, including which governing body it came from, nor its purpose. Therefore, do not ask. All you need to know is you need to stay here, and we will be managing everything else. We will distribute food rations. We will distribute cots and sleeping bags. We will be telling you when you get to sit, stand, shit, or shower, and we will not be taking any suggestions on how to manage any of that.”

“Oh, they’re going to let us shower!” squealed Cynthia from somewhere behind Marvin. She was immediately shushed.

“None of you will be permitted to leave the facility. We will facilitate gathering additional clothing and supplies, as necessary. We will manage distributing these items as we see fit. By this point, I hope that my message is being received clearly.”

There was a pause. Marvin had a sense that the colonel was choosing his next words particularly carefully. It made him feel queasy.

“Now, this wouldn’t be America if you didn’t have a chance to exercise your individual freedom, so I’ll only say this once: anyone not wishing to comply will be free to cross the firing range in the back, at will, when the announcements have concluded. Our country’s finest will be glad to put you out of your cowardly misery.”

If Marvin hadn’t observed all he already had that morning alone, he would have felt compelled to doubt the colonel’s words. His eyes flicked towards the lieutenant, who had taken a position dead center in the gym. _ I bet he’d love it if he could thin out the number of kids to “babysit,” en masse. _ The thought made him sick.

“Everyone in a uniform is an authority figure over you. But for the sake of it, just so you know, Lieutenant Maxwell Grober is second in command only to myself.” At this, Grober lifted a hand and offered a jovial wave to the crowd. “That means that we’re the only one with the power to make any and all major decisions. If we say to jump, you ask ‘how high?’

“These instructions are non-negotiable. If we all work together, we’ll get through this crisis as smoothly as humanly possible. In the meantime, just make yourselves comfortable, until we tell you, otherwise. Maple, out.”

There were some grumblings and murmurs, but none of the students appeared inspired to try and escape as before. There was some renewed sobbing. Grober lifted his megaphone to his lips once more.

“As an act of good faith, we will now pass out some canned water.” He paused, looking over the crowd. “We will bring the water to you. Do not, I repeat, absolutely do not crowd the soldiers. There is enough to go around and we will get to each of you.” Grober lowered the megaphone briefly, caught the eye of one of the soldiers standing by the door. “Oh, right. Those of you wishing to face the firing squad, pass your final words to your buddies now and line up in an orderly fashion in front of Major Edgars, over there. Please don’t dawdle, we’re not waiting all day and we certainly don’t want to waste a ration of water on you, either.”

“Are they fucking soulless?” muttered Rhonda, nearby.

“Quite likely,” Lucas replied. Marvin glanced towards his friend but saw no evidence of his typical sarcastic sparkle in his eye. Perhaps the gravity of the situation was starting to weigh on him.

“Neither of you were getting in line, right?” he asked gravely, meeting each of his friends’ eyes in turn. Rhonda swallowed. Lucas merely shook his head. Marvin nodded. 

“Should...we watch who gets in line, though?” Lucas added, tentatively. 

Rhonda was shocked. “Why?”

“To see if there’s anyone we know, obviously.”

Without even meaning to, Marvin turned towards the double doors. The majority of the gathered students were seated, making it quite easy to see who was beginning to line up. His heart sunk at the sight of the line, a good dozen-long and slowly growing. Many of them were joining the line, to the cries, wails, and protests of friends left on the sides. At least a few of them, while in line, were crying, too.

“Evelyn!” Mandy Miller’s sudden, shrill shriek caused Marvin to cringe in his surprise. He followed Mandy’s sightline and, as expected, Evelyn Thomas was purposefully marching towards the firing range line. Her hands were balled up into determined fists. She looked like a complete wreck. Her makeup was absolutely destroyed, smeared and streaked all over her face, and her eyes and cheeks appeared as though she had spent the majority of the past couple of hours crying continuously.

Mandy took off like a shot from behind him. She looked like she meant to tackle her friend to the ground, but at the last second, changed her mind in the presence of the military and swung her arm dramatically to wrap around Evelyn’s, jerking the latter to a stop.

“Let me go!” Evelyn protested.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Mandy cried in response.

Evelyn was trying to pull herself out of Mandy’s grip, but to no success. “You heard them, the fallout shelter is unuseable. That means we’re all gonna die, right here, right in here!” She gestured with her free arm. “You think this school was built with thick enough walls? I bet we’re all being exposed to fatal radiation as we speak.”

Marvin glanced nervously at the soldiers, who were still standing spread out amongst the students in the gym. He noticed a few of them watching the two girls in the center. Mandy spoke again, more quietly and tenderly.

“Dammit, Evelyn, of course I don’t think that.” She sniffed. “I know you were hoping on the safety of the fallout shelter. We all were. But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to survive under the circumstances we’re in now, right?”

Evelyn bit her lip. Mandy relaxed her grip on her friend’s arm, only slightly. Evelyn shook her head. “No. Mandy, I’m...just, no. I can’t.” Her nose had begun to run; Marvin thought she’d start crying, again. “I don’t want to live like this. I can’t live like this.”

Mandy exhaled. “You idiot.” Suddenly, her hands flew up to grip Evelyn’s face and pull her in for a deep kiss. Evelyn twitched in her surprise, then wrapped her own arms around her friend. “Then, I’m going with you. I’m not staying in this world without you.”

“All right, that’s enough,” huffed the closest soldier to the display. “Stop lollygagging and get in line.”

The two girls, arms wrapped around each other’s waists, joined what had become a line of fifteen or so people. Marvin felt torn; he was happy for his classmates to have found comfort in each other, yet devastated that they were about to face a firing squad. 

“Bit of a waste, huh?” Lucas vocalized what Marvin was thinking.

“It’s all a waste,” Marvin replied bitterly. “The whole planet has been wasted, thanks to politics, and thanks to the nukes.”

Lucas nudged him with his elbow. “We’re still alive.”

“Last call for the firing squad. Edgars will lead you out, momentarily.” Lieutenant Grober slowly turned in a circle, taking what Marvin considered to be too much pleasure in hustling the students to his will. “We will require you to sign off on a waiver and to fingerprint you, of course, but rest assured: it will all be over quite soon enough.”

“The man’s sick,” Marvin breathed to himself.

“I’m dealing the next hand,” Lenny called from behind him. Marvin looked over the line once more, a sad, nauseous feeling brewing in his guts. He turned heavily and joined his friends, waiting for his water ration.

The next hour and a half felt like an eternity. There was an uncomfortable hush within the gym as the remaining students -- how many could there be left, after the failed escape and those who lined up to die? -- carried on for as long as they could, playing cards, reading books, and talking amongst themselves. There was no way to avoid hearing the rattle of gunfire nearby, as the firing squad did their gruesome duty.

“What do you think they’ll do with the bodies?” Lenny asked, a genuinely curious tone to his voice.

“What does it matter?” Rhonda murmured in reply. Lenny nodded.

Time crawled on. Marvin, who reflected ironically on the fact that he was running late that morning and hadn’t stopped to stash his lunch box in his locker before class, gladly split up his food as best he could with Lucas, Rhonda, and Lenny. Dottie declared she had yet to regain an appetite, and Cynthia was somewhere else, hanging with a group of seniors from the marching band. He wanted to approach her, invite her for some lunch, but one of the seniors (whom Marvin recognized as a trombone player) was passing her a candy bar.

“Are you going to talk to her?” Rhonda prompted from next to his ear. He jumped.

“I -- what? -- I mean, well, yeah, just...later.” Marvin flushed fiercely and stuffed the rest of the sandwich he was holding into his mouth.

“Don’t choke on that,” Rhonda smirked.

By mid-afternoon, restlessness and boredom were at their peak high. The army had settled into a near-perfect routine of escorting students out of the gym to perform mandatory bodily functions. Marvin had yet to experience this and didn’t know if they were indeed still able to use the indoor plumbing, or if something else had been set up for them to use. Lenny and Lucas were slowly filling up the pages of Lenny’s Atomic Trigonometry workbook with games of hangman and tic tac toe, but with such a lack of gusto, it appeared as though playing had become a complete chore. Rhonda was sketching. Dottie was playing cat’s cradle with Melinda Hunter, a sophomore whose twin brother had taken to the firing range line. And Cynthia…

Marvin dared to look to see where Cynthia had turned up and felt like he had been punched to see she was still hanging out with that trombone player. He pulled his knapsack off, placed it onto the floor, then stretched out to lay his head back and stare at the ceiling. The soldiers were shuffling around and it sounded like Grober was grumbling, much like he had when they had first been corralled. As curious as he was to eavesdrop, adrenaline withdrawl was taking its toll as well. He closed his eyes.

_ I hope my mom’s okay. _Marvin was lulled by the murmurs of the students. His mind wandered around memories old and new: the ferris wheel at the Tyler County Fairground and the first time he rode on it when he was seven, the larger-than-life Nuka Cola his mom bought for him all for himself, the stuffed polar bear she won for him off the midway, being loaded in the car and next thing he knew he was waking up in his own bed the next morning; the trip they took to Boston just that past July, at her insistence, to visit Fallon’s so he could be fitted for a fedora in celebration of a very successful academic year.

Pain erupted from just below his ribs in his right side. Marvin’s eyes flew open and he howled, clutching the offended area and rolling over. “Wake up! The lieutenant is about to speak,” grunted an unrepentant soldier, hanging over Marvin’s face. Marvin made a point to turn and look directly at who thought nailing him in the side was an appropriate way to rouse someone from a doze. He recognized him as the soldier from earlier, the shorter one, who had argued with that senior. He had an odd growth on the side of his nose, like a wart of some kind, that was bright red and quite distinguishable. “You up? Good.”

Marvin mumbled and sat up. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked around. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and wondered how long he’d been out. His thoughts were interrupted by Lieutenant Grober once again barking over the megaphone.

“We have confirmed that the kitchen facilities in the cafeteria are functional. While it is unfortunate that none of the former cafeteria staff remain available to operate any of it, this is still good news. Raise your hand if you have, or were taking a senior level home economics class.”

Approximately two dozen girls and half a dozen boys lifted their hands in response. One of them was Marvin. The lieutenant looked around and gave a satisfied nod.

“Good! Each of you with your arms raised, meet at the doors to the gym. You will be escorted to the cafeteria kitchen and will receive additional orders once there. Move out!”

Marvin lifted his knapsack and turned to look for Rhonda. He found her nearby, her sketchbook abandoned, braiding the hair of a freshman he didn’t recognize. “Here, can you watch my bag, for me?”

“Sure,” she replied, gesturing with her chin for him to put it down next to her.

“Thanks.”

“Why were you taking home ec?” chortled Lenny. “That’s for girls!”

Marvin shrugged, unshaken. “I didn’t want my mom to have to cook for me, forever.”

Lucas gripped Lenny by the shoulders and gave the other boy a playful shake. “Why didn’t we think of that?! That class would be full of girls!” His face took on a dreamy look to it. “We’d have been so popular…”

Rhonda raised an eyebrow, causing Marvin to shrug, again. “I don’t know. Girls who take home ec don’t seem too interested in boys who can also cook for themselves…” he trailed off. Rhonda chuckled.

Lucas’ face dropped. “Damn. I never thought of that.”

“Students! Those of you who were called to the front, get your asses to the front!” prompted Grober through the megaphone. Marvin couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before one of the students stole, or sabotaged that thing while he hustled to get in line.


	3. Chapter 3

“Get in here and line up against the wall so we can better sort ya’s out,” ordered Major Edgars. Marvin and the rest of the home ec students filed in and did what they were told. His eyes nearly popped out of his head. Two other grunt soldiers were unpacking crates of food supplies onto the shelves and countertops, and one was sorting them by type. One of the large, floor-to-ceiling metal structures was already packed full of homogenous boxes and cans. The military had shown up to keep them at the school and they weren’t messing around. Powdered milk, instant mashed potatoes, dried peas and beans, flour, oats, sugar, baking soda, dried soup mix, tinned fish, tinned meat, tinned vegetables, tinned fruit, coffee...Marvin’s stomach betrayed him and let forth a mighty growl.

Helen Almanac, one of his home economics classmates, gave him a startled look. “Looking at all that powdered crap is actually making you hungry?”

Marvin blinked. “Sure. That soup mix is high protein, and with a little flour, some powdered milk, a little salt, and if you have it, some fresh butter, you get a decent cream soup. Dip some bread in there and you’re set.”

“God, it must have been miserable being so poor,” sneered Kelly Bravas. Marvin recognized her as one of Dottie’s friends. “We were going to have steak at my house, tonight -- well, most of us. My brother was going to have lobster, he has a thing about consuming land animals.”

“Amazing,” Helen sighed dreamily.

Marvin clenched his teeth but didn’t respond. Kelly was the kind of girl who didn’t even bother thinking about applying to college the next year, she came from a financially secure family and expected her law school-bound boyfriend to propose as soon as she graduated. Thinking about how none of that would matter with the bombs having dropped was the only thing that brought his rage down to a tolerable level.

_ Keep dreaming about that steak. Chances are it’ll be along time, if ever, that you eat like that, again. _ He took some slow, deep breaths. Edgars concluded his discussion with the grunts and slapped his hand on the stainless steel prep counter repeatedly to call the students to his attention.

“Shut up and listen. I don’t like to talk and I want to get this over with. You lot will be cooking up all the grub from now on. That’s three squares, you understand? Good. We’ll be making some kind of schedule because we won’t need thirty of you standing around in here.”

Helen raised her hand, but Edgars ignored her.

“There will be strict rules about what and how much food to use. You disobey, you don’t eat. And unless it’s deemed to be a serious health risk, we eat everything we prepare, even if it’s overcooked. We can’t afford waste and we won’t tolerate it.” Edgars jabbed a finger at Marvin. “You! What were you saying about a cream soup?”

Marvin blushed as he felt all eyes turn to him. He described the basic recipe once more, keeping his voice as steady as he could through his nervousness. Edgar nodded, and looked at one of the grunts.

“What say you?”

The grunt shrugged. “Sounds solid to me, sir. We’ve got a few eggs and some butter, and biscuit mix we could use instead of bread.”

“Soup and fresh biscuits it is, then.”

Kelly wailed. “I can’t believe we’re cooking up dried beans for supper! Sir, if I may?” she began, as though suddenly remembering her manners.

“You may not,” Edgars grunted. 

“But this is  _ ridiculous _ . Why are we eating like homeless people when there’s cases of meat right in front of us? Or with the grocery store just a couple of blocks away?!” She clasped her hands together and took a step towards Edgars. “My daddy owns the Portside Pub, if we call him, he can probably just bring us some steaks, or even just some ground burger meat, or --”

“Shut up!” Edgars interrupted as he crossed the floor towards her. “Our job is to provide you with the food, nothing says you need to eat it. Make your choice.” He stopped when he reached her and looked down his nose to meet her eyes. “Let me remind you that many of these fine patriots of the USA, charged with keeping your worthless ass alive, likely haven’t had the luxury to even think about a steak for as long as recent memory would allow. I suggest you remember that.”

Kelly gulped and suddenly looked very pale. Marvin felt a little glee as he noticed she had picked up on the subtle threat. He hoped it would scare her enough to avoid thinking about spitting in the soldier’s food. He lifted his hand.

“I’ll volunteer to help with tonight’s meal, sir.”

Edgars looked at Marvin and nodded. “Very good.” The major proceeded to point at six other students and told them to stay behind and assist, chose another seven to assign to breakfast for the next day, then dismissed the remaining.

Marvin was more than ready to sleep for a week by the time he and the other ragtag cafeteria staff were escorted back to the gymnasium. Everyone had been escorted into the cafeteria’s seating area for the meal, then escorted back, but he was required to remain in the kitchen until the clean up had been concluded. He yawned, wondering what time it was, and nearly choked on the smell in the air. The temperature within the room wasn’t as warm as it had been in the cafeteria kitchen, but the lack of ventilation and air circulation was evident. It smelled sweaty, with undertones of fear, vomit, bleach, and piss. He lifted the back of his hand and inhaled the lingering clean scent of Abraxo on his skin as he picked his way through the students setting up small cots and sleeping bags. Lucas waved him down from the back of the room from a modest perch on top of a cot, suspended mere inches off of the hardwood floor, next to a sleeping bag that was indeed stretched across the floor.

“I made sure to get a sleeping bag for you, so we could set up next to each other.” Lucas waved across the gym and smirked. “They separated the girls and the boys, as if drawing a line down the middle of the room makes a huge difference.”

“Nice bed,” Marvin grumbled as thanks. He was beginning to feel cranky in his sudden exhaustion.

“Huh? Oh. I was saving it for you, actually. The apocalypse turns people into sharks, it seems.” Lucas rose and settled himself onto the sleeping bag on the floor, instead. “I figured we could take turns, alternating nights, on it. You had to help with dinner so I thought it only fair you got first night.”

Marvin paused mid-stretch. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Lucas’ face took on a grave expression. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I don’t know I really trust these army dudes. Not once in all our drills was it mentioned they would ever step in, and they sure as hell didn’t show up for any of them, either. So, we’re going to look out for each other, got it?”

Marvin blinked. He felt as though his brain had shut down into standby, functioning merely as life support only. He yawned again, sitting heavily onto the cot and prying his shoes off with his toes. “Did something happen while I was gone?”

Lucas drummed his fingers on his knee. “Well, for one, they keep forming up into little groups to have private conversations, but tell us nothing. They obviously know things that we don’t and aren’t telling us. Then, Ricky Wax, that junior on the chess team? He got into a fight with…”

Marvin nodded but tuned his friend’s voice out as he blathered. He was too tired to keep listening, and far too tired to entertain Lucas’ conspiracy theories. He thought about the time when they were eight years old and Lucas was convinced his parents were hiding a sibling from him, because he caught his mother one day bringing in an armload of new toys into the house that seemed to disappear. When Lucas had asked his mom about it, she denied ever doing such a thing. Lucas was so upset, it was all he would talk about for days, until his birthday party the following week. All those toys he saw coming into the house, meant as a surprise, turned up on his gift table. Marvin yawned deeply, feeling as though his jaw would dislocate from his skull. “Mmhmm. Yeah. Can you hold that thought, Loo? I just need to close my eyes for a bit.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lucas fell quiet. Marvin settled himself onto the cot, not bothering to slide into the sleeping bag; the air in the gym was humid and warm, enough. The acrylic-filled tiny sack that was passing as a pillow crackled under the weight of his head, and yet, it was the most comfortable thing he’d felt that entire day. He closed his eyes. “Are you okay?” Lucas asked from the floor.

“I’m fine, I’m just really tired.”

Lucas was silent for a moment. “You worried about your mom?”

_ I just want to sleep. _ “A little. Mostly, I hope she’s okay.”

“You think our parents might come here, to look for us?”

Marvin opened his eyes and gave his friend what he hoped was a sympathetic look. “I have no idea. Considering they knew we were supposed to be in a fallout shelter under the school, it seems likely. Assuming…”

“Assuming they’re still alive,” Lucas finished.

Marvin took a breath. “That, and that the military hasn’t locked down more of the town, making it impossible for them to even get here.”

Lucas didn’t reply. Marvin reached down to clasp his best friend on the shoulder.

“Only thing we can do is keep it together, wait out the worst of it, and hope for the best.”

There was a long pause. Lucas finally spoke so quietly that Marvin almost missed it. “What if that means they took off for shelter, and left us behind?”

“Then there’s nothing we can do about it.” Marvin knew his words were true, but they left him feeling sick to his stomach. He extended his hand. “We’re here, and we’re alive, and I won’t leave you behind. Okay? Not you, and not Rhonda and her sister, either.”  _ And not Cynthia, if I can help it _ . A slight quiver shook through his body as he thought of Cynthia, but he willed it away. He placated himself with a fantasy of walking along the lakeshore with her, hand in hand, watching the sunset and waiting for the fireflies, and soon was fast asleep, before he ever even heard Lucas’ answer.

He woke up often, finding it difficult to stay asleep in the awkward and uncomfortable cot. When he stirred the second time, he noticed the fluorescent lights high on the ceiling were out. There were a few lanterns of sorts on the ground level, offering a warm glow in different parts of the gym, no doubt to provide some light to the military personnel who remained on watch during the night. Marvin briefly wondered where the rest of them would sleep, then decided he didn’t care enough to ask.

The fourth (or was it the fifth? He’d given up trying to count) time he woke up, he thought he heard raised voices somewhere, and a low rumbling sound. Marvin thought that quite odd, and sat himself up to focus on the noise outside of the low, hushed breathing of the students sleeping around him. There certainly were some raised voices from beyond the gym doors, but he couldn’t hear any distinct words. There was a distant thud, followed by a low boom, and what sounded like the crackle of gunfire.

Marvin had resolved himself to thinking he’d imagined the noise, when one of the gym doors opened. The light was too low to see any distinct features, but the person was obviously one of the soldiers, who looked around frantically before finding who, or what, they were looking for. “Macintosh!” the soldier hissed, attempting to use as much volume as would remain discreet. “Macintosh, we’re switching, you’re needed out front, and bring your med kit.”

Macintosh, who had been sitting on the bleachers, stood and nodded. Marvin watched as he walked to the back of the room where Lieutenant Grober’s table had been set up, retrieved a large bag, then crossed through the gym towards the door. Muffled movement behind Marvin’s ear caused him to begin to turn, finding him face to face with a large growth on the side of a certain soldier’s nose.

“Go back to sleep, kid. Nothing going on outside concerns you.”

Marvin swallowed on a dry throat, but shook his head. “Can’t. I gotta pee.” He turned and lowered his feet off the cot to the ground and groped for his shoes.

The soldier grunted. “Fine. Go to the door and ask for Kirk. He’s on potty duty.”

Marvin nodded and made his way to the door. Avoiding sleeping bags and rogue limbs sticking out every which way, in the cartoon-like positions some of his colleagues slept, he managed not to step on anyone. A slumped soldier at the door eyed him, warily.

“What’chu want?”

“I need to pee. I was told to ask for Kirk.”

The soldier nodded. “He just took someone else. Wait until he gets back.”

Marvin made to glance around, then gestured for the soldier to come closer, as though he had something confidential to say to him. “Look, I...I was sleeping, and when I woke up...you know?” He gestured towards his crotch. “No, don’t look, oh my god, I’m sorry. It’s just, I need to...I mean I don’t really have to pee, but --”

“All right, kid, take it easy.” The soldier quietly pulled the door open and stuck his head out into the hallway. A small sliver of light shone in from beyond. He pulled it back in and widened the opening. “The toilets in the dressing rooms are backed up to shit -- er, I mean, backed up to high hell. We thought all the running water was out, but it was only in some parts of the building. We’re using the ones just down the hall, past the walkway to the foyer. You know the ones?”

Marvin nodded.

“Good. You go directly there, and nowhere else. Tell Kirk it was an emergency, if you see him on the way there. But I ain’t taking no responsibility for what might happen to ya if any of the other soldiers find you, you got me?”

Marvin nodded, again, and slipped out the door. He took three quiet steps towards the hallway, before he heard the gym door latch shut. He immediately changed direction and tip-toed as silently as his Chucks would allow towards the foyer and main doors. The overhead lights in the halls were completely out, but someone had triggered the more subdued emergency lighting, so the pathways weren’t completely dark. Marvin pushed aside the eerie feeling he got from seeing familiar structures and passageways cast in a completely different light.  _ The Halloween decorations don’t help. _ He turned down the hallway that led to the former principal’s office and featured the trophy cases, and saw bright lights from the main foyer. The trophy cases and shelves cast long, deep shadows towards him. He crept up to the shelf closest to the door across the hallway and elected to cram himself into the darkness as best as he could to avoid being seen.

The thudding and raised voices were most definitely coming from the front lobby. There was an outcry of pain, some heated words. More thudding from the doors. Marvin looked back over his shoulder toward the way he came. As much as he knew he should leave it be and return to the gym, he wanted to find out more about what was happening. 

The main doors were slightly open, being braced by soldiers on the inside to keep from being opened at all. Three pairs of hands were hooked around the edges, gripping hard. Both sides were struggling to win and making no headway. The soldiers’ faces were sweaty, strained, and flushed, as they strongly held their ground.

“We’re taxpayers!” yelled someone from outside. “It’s your job to protect us, too! You need to let us in!”

“Fuck that, I just want my kid! You can’t keep him without my permission, that’s illegal!” shrieked a female voice. For a split second, Marvin thought it might have been his mom. He strained his ears to listen more closely to the voice. “I don’t even have to come in, just go and get Bradley Anderson, that’s all I want!”

“All of you need to release the door, step back, and move along! Now!” barked Lieutenant Grober. Marvin almost didn’t recognize his voice without the nasal amplification of a megaphone.

“Hell no!” yelled a third voice from beyond the doors. “Let us in! Our homes were destroyed and we have nowhere else to go!”

Grober was not deterred. “You will have to seek shelter elsewhere. This is a private establishment, not a hotel! Move along, before things get ugly!”

“Head’s up!” cried one of the soldiers bracing the door, who let go out of reflex, causing the door to buckle and swing open. A large rock came hurtling through the door at surprising speed, smacked into the linoleum, and slid to a stop in the middle of the room. It was soon followed by another. A few of the survivors began to shove themselves through the open door. They were violently intercepted by the soldiers, including Grober, from advancing further than that front line. Marvin watched as a fist fight broke out between the civilians and the soldiers. Grober smashed the butt of his rifle into a woman’s nose, resulting in a small explosion of blood with a squeal of agony. Grober squat and shoved his shoulder into the woman’s chest, causing her to fly backward and into another civilian trying to push his way into the school. The scene continued to play out in this way for a few chaotic minutes. Gunshots were fired. Marvin jumped and dashed further into the hallway to avoid being hit by a stray bullet. Raised voices, scuffling, and the boom of gunshots made it impossible to tell completely by ear what was happening. He felt his heart rate increase as he listened to the fighting.

_ I should get back to the gym while they’re all distracted,  _ he thought cleverly to himself, but found his feet were rooted to the ground.

“Get those doors shut NOW!” bellowed Maple. “Start aiming for knees, for Christ’s sake, to keep them from running in here!”

Marvin felt sick. The sound of gunshots increased and Marvin wasn’t all too sure that the civilians weren’t firing back, either. He covered his ears and shut his eyes, wishing he could be home in his bed.

There was a sudden and loud slam from the foyer. “They’re contained, colonel!” cried someone, sounding completely exhausted.

“Set up a barricade against the doors, that will keep them from getting in again,” replied Colonel Maple. “Get those flood lights up on the roof, toss down the bodies, and you have my permission to scatter fire. Don’t spend more than a handful of rounds.”

There was a marked hesitation. “If I may, sir,” spoke Grober, “once the crowd withdraws, it might be a better idea to put the bodies back out the door. If we drag them through the school and the kids see the blood, it might cause panic. There’s at least a few of them already questioning our authority and distrust our presence.”

A pause. “Fair point, lieutenant. All right, we’ll get rid of the bodies through the doorway. It should be easy enough to keep the sheep out of here,” replied Maple. “What are our losses?”

A voice that Marvin didn’t recognize started rattling off a report. “We’ve got one down, bullet grazed his thigh, another shot in the stomach, status critical...probably need to cut up some linens for bandages…”

Marvin didn’t stick around to hear the rest. Footsteps were approaching the door to the hallway. A beam of light from a flashlight bobbed rhythmically against the wall, slowly constricting in size as its source came closer. He panicked. Marvin pushed himself to his feet and took off back down the hallway, his feet sliding around the corner as he ran. He hoped the soldiers leaving the lobby didn’t notice his hasty retreat. He slowed just enough as to not slam into the gym door, reached down and pulled it open. The same soldier who let him out grabbed him by the collar and hauled him inside, a menacing look on his face. He pushed Marvin back against the door, lightly thumping the teen’s head against it.

“What the hell, kid?” the soldier hissed through clenched teeth. “You try to pull a fast one on me? Kirk never saw ya at the bathroom! Where’d you get to? And don’t you dare try to lie to me.”

Marvin had hardly caught his breath from his short sprint through the halls. He didn’t need to try to look scared. “I got turned around in the dark,” he blurted.  _ That’s not a complete lie _ , he thought. “I ended up by the caf, I used the bathroom there. I swear! I just got lost. I ran right back. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”  _ That last part is true, too. _

The soldier’s eyes narrowed. The subdued lighting from the sparse lanterns cast sinister shadows on his face. Marvin gulped and panted, making no effort to hide that he was out of breath. The grip on his shirt loosened, but the soldier’s expression didn’t. “You’re going to march yourself straight back to your cot and next time, you’ll wait for your escort. This could have cost both our asses, do you understand?”

Marvin nodded vigorously. His shirt was released. “Thank you. What was your name, sir?”

The soldier paused, then shrugged. “Farleigh. Now, get out of my sight.”

Marvin curled up on his cot and shut his eyes, tight. He heard the desperate cries of the civilians echo through his mind. He felt sick for all of them all over again.  _ They didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t do a single thing wrong! They wanted to feel safe, and the army refused. Why do they care about a group of teenagers so much? Something doesn’t add up. _ He opened his eyes and looked down at the sleeping form of his best friend.  _ Lucas was right.  _

The sounds of the scene in the lobby didn’t leave him until he fell asleep.

He woke up tense and irritable. The soldiers blared an alarm over the speaker system to wake the students up en masse. It went about as well as suddenly jolting dozens of teenagers to a state of wakefulness could possibly have gone.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Lucas smirked from the floor. Marvin didn’t doubt it. He wouldn’t bet on having pieced together more than five hours of sleep, if he was lucky.

Lieutenant Grober barked out more instructions over his megaphone. They started taking small groups of students to the showers, passing out tiny soaps, micro tubes of shampoo, and towels. The students assigned to prepare breakfast were led back to the cafeteria kitchen. “If you want to shower, and we don’t get to you before breakfast, we will conduct further trips following the morning meal. You will get a strict fifteen minutes for start to finish and that’s it -- and don’t think we aren’t above hauling you out and tossing you back in here, naked or not.”

That final comment prompted some nervous giggles from the students. Marvin rubbed his face once more, resenting his greasy skin and stealing a quick whiff off his armpits. He’d smelled worse, but only after freshman phys ed class. A shower, as fast as it would have to be, could help him sort out his thoughts while also improving his scent...yet something about the vulnerability of nudity with all the soldiers around made him queasy. He looked at Lucas. “Hey, do you want to go get a shower?”

Lucas choked. “What?”

Marvin shook his head, irritated. “Not like that. I just mean,” he looked around before leaning over and finishing his sentence quietly, “I saw something last night. With the soldiers. And I think you’re right about staying together.”

Lucas jumped, his eyes wide. “What?!” he hissed. “What happened? What did you do? What did you see?!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Marvin noticed one of the nearby soldiers looking towards the excited hissing. “Not here. I’ll tell you later, it’s too embarrassing and there’s too many people,” he replied just a little more loudly than he needed to. Lucas took the hint. He appeared as though he would explode, but didn’t press further.

Breakfast didn’t provide a better opportunity for a quiet conversation. The soldiers patrolled the aisles between the tables while the students ate overcooked scrambled eggs with dry toast, and washed it down with water and coffee. Marvin didn’t see Major Farleigh anywhere within the ranks, either. He wondered if his little unauthorized trip was what prompted the tighter surveillance. All it did was deepen the suspicion that the army wasn’t just there to ensure the students remained safe in the aftermath of the nuclear war.

“Isn’t it kind of funny to be at school on a Saturday?” giggled Cynthia, joining their group without an invitation. “When do you think they’ll let our parents come pick us up?”

A somber silence fell among the small group of Marvin, Lucas, Lenny, Rhonda, and Rhonda’s sister Tabitha. Dottie sat at the far end of their table with a different group but remained annoyingly nearby. It suddenly occurred to Marvin that he hadn’t seen Clyde since the first escape attempt.

Rhonda reached over to lay her arm comfortingly on Tabitha’s arm. “Cynthia, no one is coming to pick anyone up. You know that, right?”

“What? That’s dumb. My dad wouldn’t just leave me here. Or do you think they’ll send us home on a bus, instead?”

Rhonda exchanged a look with Lucas, who shrugged and took another scoop of egg. Before she could reply, Marvin, emboldened by the coffee and the real possibility that the army might execute all of them at any given moment, reached over and covered Cynthia’s hand with his.

“The world’s...gone, Cynthia. Don’t you remember the simulation films they showed us? What’s out there probably looks nothing like what we remember it, and on top of that, the nuclear fallout is deadly and dangerous. We’re not going to get to go home, at least, not anytime soon.” He squeezed her hand and did his best to offer a warm, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. We’re all going to stick together, here, and take care of each other.”

Cynthia tensed. Her entire demeanor clouded over. When she spoke, Marvin had to strain his ears just to hear it. “Do you think that’s funny?”

Marvin blinked. “Of course it’s not funny. Millions of people have died, including plants, and animals. Our lives won’t be the same, but we’re all going to get through it as a group, and --”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shrieked, yanking her hand back forcefully, causing her to bump her tray and spill the contents of her water glass all over the sophomore who had been sitting next to the space Cynthia had intended to occupy.

“Cynthia!”

“Shut up!” she roared, her face grimaced as she began to cry. “You’re a...a psychopath, Martin! Don’t ever talk to me again!” Cynthia snatched up her tray from the table, sprinkling the bench and floor with water that had seeped beneath it. She turned on her heel and strode purposefully across the room towards the band seniors she had been chatting with the day before.

Marvin gaped as he tried to process what had just happened. The sophomore was on her feet, blotting up water with some flimsy napkins and the help of a friend. Rhonda reached over and added her napkin to the effort.

“On the plus side,  _ Martin _ , you finally talked to her,” Lucas offered, barely able to hide his grin in his coffee cup.

“Don’t be a jerk,” quipped Rhonda. “You know as well as I do that Marv’s been trying to talk to her for weeks. He was going to ask her to the Halloween Social and everything. Give him a break.”

“I’m fine,” Marvin muttered, which was a blatant and outright lie. He felt he could have handled it if she’d turned him down for the dance, but the fact she didn’t even know what his name was after sharing several classes and band practices together was a dire blow to his ego.

“Now you know where you stand?” Lenny offered cautiously.

Lucas chuckled, unable to contain himself. “Yeah: without a chance!”

Rhonda shoved Lucas in his shoulder, who just barely was able to avoid sloshing his coffee all over his own lap. All of them jumped at the sharp voice from the end of the table.

“Settle down! If you’re finished, line up to go back to the gym. If not, you’ve got five minutes before we clear you out, regardless!” rebuked Major Edgars.

Marvin stared at his unfinished eggs, knowing he should make himself eat them, but had lost all appetite. He stared blankly at his tray while his friends quietly scraped up their own plates. Lieutenant Grober was yelling at them over the megaphone to pick up their trays and get back into a single file line to return to the gym.

“It’ll be okay, Marv,” Rhonda offered quietly.

He sniffed miserably. “Just leave me alone.” When they returned to the gym, he marched over to where his bag had been left by his cot, pulled out the first textbook he laid his hand on, tucked himself into the back corner of the gym, and simply began to read.

He was angry. Not with Cynthia, but with himself. He should have tried to be more sensitive to her shock and denial, and instead he ripped the scab open, and all in front of their friends, too. Marvin smouldered. He knew Lucas was right: there was no way he would have a chance after that debacle. It made him even more mad. Mad, and sad, and more than just a little disappointed in Cynthia.  _ How did she never realize my name isn’t Martin? _

He sulked. He was vaguely aware of his friends hovering nearby, trying to appear as though they were doing anything else but watch him. Marvin pulled his book up higher, merely skimming the text.

“What was that?!” exclaimed someone nearby.

Marvin felt it, in his backside and on his back, the parts of his body making contact with the floor and the wall, respectively. It was a vibration, of sorts. He looked around, wondering that the military weren’t just wheeling some heavy cart over the floor.

“Nothing,” sighed someone else. “You’re getting paranoid.”

The vibration was intensifying. “No,” he called towards the students, “I feel it, too.” Marvin straightened. He closed his book and laid his hands down against the floor. A few others followed his lead, placing their hands against the wall.

“EARTHQUAKE!” bellowed one of the soldiers, causing an echo effect as the cry was repeated by fellow soldier and captive students, alike. There was a surge in the tremors. Marvin’s book toppled off of his lap. He cemented his hands against the floor, unable to do anything else. Several of the students who were standing fell to the ground, and those who were already seated on the floor reached over and clutched each other. The screaming nearly outmatched the rumbling in volume. Marvin’s teeth clattered painfully together and there was no way for him to avoid it. He chanced to look up towards the gym’s high ceiling, to see the fluorescent lights wildly swinging and pulling against their cables. Decades of dust that had collected in the rafters shook down towards the floor, creating a choking fog cloud. Marvin heard a heavy snap, above. His eyes searched the ceiling for the source, and in the thick dust he saw a light fixture -- or, rather, the double-line form of the light -- swoop in an arc in a most unexpected fashion.

The tremors subsided, but the dust still swirled, much of it having descended to breathing level and resulting in coughs and sneezes to be added to the chorus of terrified sobs and wails. Marvin kept his eyes fixed on the swinging fluorescent light. His entire body was trembling, but he forced himself to stand and looked for the nearest soldier. He had to warn  _ someone. _ He staggered on legs made of gelatin, looking around wildly, but the dust made it hard to tell between civilian and soldier when they were all hunched over.

Marvin gave up and instead made for the makeshift lieutenant’s office. His eyes were watering, his lungs burned from the dry dust, and he sneezed more than a few times. Just as he made it to the fabric barrier, past the array of sleeping bags and small clusters of gathered humans, the tremors returned. Cries of “aftershock!” began to ripple through the room. Marvin dropped to the floor, not wanting to risk walking while the tectonic episode was going on. The intensity of the aftershock was not as great as the initial earthquake, reminding Marvin of riding the rickety old roller coaster at Camden Park.

“Someone get those doors open and get this dust moving out of the damn gym,” wheezed Grober from the other side of the barrier. Marvin immediately recalled his mission and looked up at the ceiling. The light fixture looked lower than before, or was that just because he was standing closer to it?

As if in answer, there was another snap from above. Marvin boldly shoved one of the standing dividers, to the annoyed looks from Grober and the other soldiers nearby. “Look out!” he cried, before succumbing to a fit of coughs.

“What is the meaning of this?” Grober scowled, his face flushed from all the coughing, and probably, yelling.

Marvin wheezed. Dust was caught in the back of his throat and he found it impossible to stop coughing long enough to speak. He thrust his arm in the air, pointing at the light fixture dangling from above.

“Holy shit. Should it be doing that?” asked one of the grunts standing next to Marvin.

Grober looked between the light fixture and the immediate area, then elected to wave everyone off. “Move! Get out of the way!”

The reaction time of the soldiers and the throng of students hunched over in front of Grober’s nest was much more sluggish. Marvin turned to escape but found himself trapped between two students who were standing and gawking at the fixture, and a soldier unsuccessfully trying to bodily move them out of the way. Someone screamed and Marvin heard the final snap from above.

“Get...down!” coughed Grober. He lurched monstrously and shoved Martin in the back. Martin collided with the two other students who still had not moved, knocking them backwards, but they all managed to keep their feet. Something hard and heavy landed on the back of Martin’s head. He sprawled forward to land on the ground. Everything went completely dark.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 content warning: suicide

Marvin was aware of being on the floor, a dull ache across the back of his shoulders, but that was it. He could hear what was becoming a familiar soundtrack to his current existence: wailing, moaning, crying, shuffling, all around him...but it was dark. Pitch dark. He exaggerated a blink just to make sure his eyes were open.

Panic gripped him. He pushed himself up onto his palms and turned his head from side to side. “I can’t see,” he called out, desperately. “I can’t see!!” He didn’t recall any impact to his head that might have caused the blindness, and his head wasn’t really hurting, either. Panic continued to infuse his being. “Someone help me, please! I can’t see!”

“No one can see, kid! The power’s out,” grunted Grober from nearby, who followed it with a cough. “Macintosh! Get your ass out there and get the generators running, pronto.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Who else have I got?”

Three others rhymed off in role call: Edgars, Hurley, and Unden.

Grober coughed. “For the love of...Edgars and Hurley, get those lamps lit, before one of these damn kids hurts themselves. Unden, find something to get the air circulated in here, and maybe some brooms or something.”

Marvin blinked at the sight of flashlight beams bobbing in different places in the gym, as other soldiers managed to get to their feet and get some lights, on. They looked like tiny spotlights in a deep fog as the dust remained hanging in the air. Relief had quickly replaced panic. He shivered as the adrenaline slowly retreated.

“Remain where you are, and remain calm,” Grober was bellowing over his megaphone. “We will be restoring the lights and getting the dust cleared up as soon as we can. Please stay where you are to avoid injury to yourself, or others.”

Marvin heard the door open on the far side; it must have been Macintosh or Unden leaving on their tasks. He pushed himself up to his knees. A dull light appeared from behind him. He turned to see Grober had lit the nearby lantern. Grober nodded at him.

“Thanks, kid,” was all he said. Marvin nodded.

He did exactly what he had been told, despite wanting to stand and find his way back to his friends, to make sure they were okay. He looked towards the side of the gym where they had been hanging out, but it was impossible to see further than a few feet in front of him. Coughing, quiet crying, and low murmuring could be heard throughout. Grober had retreated for a hushed conversation with someone; Marvin didn’t dare attempt to position himself to a better listening spot.

From somewhere within the building, there was a booming like thunder, followed by some vibrations in the floor. Marvin looked up and around, only to realize it was too dark to see much further than right above his own head.

“Another aftershock?” exclaimed one of the students from before, still sitting in front of him.

“No,” replied the other. “That’s the building falling apart. My dad did construction and demolition, I’ve heard that a thousand times.”

“That’s...what?!”

Marvin blinked. “What part?”

“Hell if I know,” answered the second student. “If I had to guess, probably one of the upper floors is collapsing.”

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” stammered the first. “The roof is going to fall in, we’re going to die, we need to get out of here!”

“The roof is falling in?!” cried someone else nearby, having heard some of the conversation. There was an answering murmur and a shuffle. 

“What are we going to do?!”

“Everyone, remain where you are!” barked Grober once more. “No one is under any immediate threat to their safety! We will get the lights on --”

As if on cue, the emergency lighting came to life. They were nowhere near as bright as the fluorescents, but at least Marvin could see his hands out in front of him. Well, mostly. He could barely believe how thick the dust still was in the air.

Heavy and fast footsteps were cutting through the gym towards where Martin was sitting. “Sir!” exclaimed a breathy Unden. “We have...a problem!”

“Spit it out!” ordered Grober.

“The door...there’s been an escape. I don’t know how many. They must have got out, in the dark.”

“Did they leave the facility?!”

“We don’t know. The front door is barricaded, but that doesn’t mean…”

“Shit.” Grober reached up and rubbed his brow. “That’s going to affect things.”

“There’s more bad news.”

“Get on with it.”

“A good portion of the upper floor has fallen in. Preliminary reports indicate nearly a third of the entire building is now inaccessible. We’ll have a more formalized report now that there’s some lighting and we can get some fellows to conduct a proper survey.”

“Shit,” Grober swore, again. “Any luck with some brooms, or fans?”

“Yes, sir. Moving them in now, sir.”

“Thank god.” Grober rubbed his brow once more. “Get someone to pass out some water, give the kids something to do.”

Unden saluted, then turned on his heel and marched off. Marvin took the opportunity to stand and look for his friends. Grober began barking on his megaphone again, telling the students the plan to clean and ventilate the gym, distribute water, what to do if there was an injury. Marvin noticed he did not mention that an unknown number of students had gone missing. He found Rhonda and Tabitha picking up and shaking out pillows and sleeping bags in an attempt to clear them of the worst of the dust. Lenny was hunched over Lucas, who was sitting on the floor, holding a handkerchief to his forehead. “What happened to you?” Marvin asked.

“Ah, just a little cut on my brow. Rhonda was showing me her sketchbook when the bad tremors started up and it flew up and out of her hands. The corners of that thing are surprisingly sharp.”

Marvin blinked. “Why was she showing you her sketchbook?”

Lucas appeared bashful, all of a sudden. “I don’t know, I asked her to. She didn’t mind.”

Marvin narrowed his brow in suspicion. Rhonda didn’t show anyone her sketchbook, ever. She considered it her diary, in pictorial form. “Is there something going on that I should know about?”

“Not that you should know about,” Lucas smirked. Marvin felt even more suspicious. He opened his mouth to say so, when Dottie was thrusting two cans of water into his hands.

“Double rations, each,” she said, as though she anticipated the question. 

“How mightily generous,” Lucas sneered.

Dottie shrugged. She dropped one can into her pocket and popped the tab on the other and took a swig. “At least they’re still cold. Who knows if the fridges are hooked up to the generator?”

“Hope so, otherwise, we’ll be eating eggs for all three meals, today.” Marvin slowly turned the can in his hand, holding the label near his nose to be able to read it in the dim lighting. 

“What are you looking for?” asked Lenny after taking a gulp.

“It says ‘Purified Water,’ but nothing about what that process even is.”

“So?”

Marvin took a drink, then smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I don’t know, it just has a weird taste to it, don’t you think?”

Lenny blinked. “What?”

“You...don’t think so?” Marvin raised an eyebrow and took another sip. There was a distinct, slightly bitter, almost metallic tang to the water. The flavour wasn’t enough to make it completely unpalatable, but it was impossible to just ignore. 

Both Lenny and Lucas exchanged a look. Lucas shrugged. “It tastes like water always tasted, to me.”

“Really?”

Lenny nodded. “Just like any old tap water.”

Marvin offered his can to Lenny. “Maybe it’s just mine. Try it.”

Lenny traded his can for Marvin’s and they both took a drink from the other’s water. Lenny smacked his lips together like a sommelier, and took another sip for good measure. “Nope. I don’t taste anything.”

“That’s weird. I definitely taste it in yours, too.” Marvin shrugged, trying not to feel self conscious about it.

“What are you doing?” Rhonda giggled, having finally joined the group with her water.

“Marv tastes something funny in the water,” Lucas answered.

“Really?”

“It’s probably just from whatever process they used,” Marvin muttered, feeling more and more embarrassed as the rest of his friends carefully tasted the water and insisted it was just like drinking from the water fountains. “Just forget about it.” He crushed the empty can in his hand and wagged it. “I’m going to find a place to toss this and go get my textbook.”

He’d managed to find his textbook, laying open on the floor and covered in dust. Marvin picked it up and shook it off, tucked it under his arm, and turned to return to his friends. Dottie was standing in front of him, causing him to jolt in his tracks and nearly drop his book. “Jesus!”

“I taste it, too,” was what she replied in a low voice.

Marvin swallowed. “Why didn’t you say so, earlier?” he hissed, exasperated, though he was fairly certain of the answer. “It would have saved me some awkwardness, at least.”

Dottie smirked. “I made the mistake of suggesting it tasted funny, yesterday. People looked at me like I had two heads.”

“No kidding,” he muttered.

“Don’t you think that’s kind of weird, though?” Dottie lowered her voice to a near-whisper.

“I’m trying not to.”

“Come on, Marv, you’re a smart guy. The army shows up, locks us in, makes us eat and drink what they brought for us…”

Marvin swallowed again. “You’re starting to sound like Lucas, suspecting everything.”

Dottie blinked. “Are you serious? Where have you been for the past few years? Resource shortages, government corruption.”

“Studying, I guess! I don’t know.” Marvin felt his hackles go up. “What does that have to do with having different taste buds than everyone else?”

Dottie crossed her arms and rocked on her heels, staring at the floor. She paused and looked back up at Martin. “What do you taste, then?”

“Pardon me?”

“Describe what it tastes like. If it’s different than what it tastes like to me, then maybe we’re just…”

“Freaks?”

“I was going to say, ‘unique’.”

“Hmm.” Marvin shifted the textbook in his arms. “Kind of coppery, I guess. Like I licked a penny. Sort of tangy. Not strong, but weird enough that it’s noticeable.”

Dottie let her breath out in a single stream. “Right. So at least we’re freaks, but the same kind of freaks.”

“What does it matter? Are you going to go ask for different water? Or just ask questions?” Marvin leaned close. Dottie’s jaw clenched, but she did not flinch. “If you haven’t noticed, they don’t mind shooting us if they have enough reason to.”

Dottie’s eyes lit up, suddenly. “You were in the kitchen, right? What did it look like?”

“Well, when we got there, they were stocking the shelves.” Marvin paused. His stomach dropped. “Oh, god. They were stocking the shelves.”

“With their stuff, right? None of what had been in there was left, was it?” 

“I mean, I don’t know for sure. I had never been in the cafeteria kitchen, before.” He shivered. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

“Doubt it, and so you do. They shot Mr. Berkshire. The rest of the faculty is nowhere to be seen. They won’t let anyone out other than for a firing squad.” Dottie met his gaze dead on. “We’re like prisoners.”

“Prisoners,” he repeated in a whisper. “Why, though? Why us? Just...why?”

“As if I know!”

“Then what does it matter?!” Marvin pushed past Dottie as he pushed the conversation out of his mind.

The three days that would follow the earthquake saw stress and tension levels rise, and not just within the students who remained, but within the soldiers as well. The day after the quake, Maple ordered a head count of the students who remained to get a sense of the losses. They had already recorded and accounted for those who elected to attend the firing range, and those who died during the first escape attempt, but after the proper survey of the damage to the building, it was gruesomely apparent that not only was there a second attempt by a group of students to escape, but a handful of them had perished under the second floor collapse. They estimated that thirty students managed to find their way out the doors and leave the school building, entirely.

On top of that, while the generators worked well enough to keep the emergency lighting on, the gas cooktops in the cafeteria kitchen were completely useless. The military only had a handful of electric hot plates, which were all too small to cook full meals for a hundred hungry people in any efficient manner. Broken furniture and other debris from the collapse were turned into firewood and a selected few from the senior home ec students were trained on how to build and use a cookfire...but the results were inconsistent and nearly completely inedible. Students and military alike did their best to choke down as much as possible, but there was only so much char and burn any given person could take.

Underfed, tired, and bored, small spats would kick up here and there, with various instigators and triggers. There was no running water in the entire building following the quakes. The military jerry rigged some toilet facilities -- buckets propped up on empty crates, tucked into structures built out of desks for privacy -- in a far classroom, emptied twice a day by an unlucky soldier crammed into a hazmat suit and sent outside. Despite that, there was a constant, raw sewage aroma that had permeated all accessible areas of the school that no amount of bleach could remove. Add to that the lingering smells of burned food and unwashed bodies, it was enough to make anyone want to risk the wilderness, nuclear fallout or no.

Maple had abandoned whatever office he had taken over as his own to join Grober’s small command center in the main gym. Lucas continued to diligently plant himself on the other side of the fabric barrier to eavesdrop. Marvin had long abandoned all attempts to convince Lucas to leave it. _ I suppose we all need new hobbies to pass the time, somehow. _

Several of the remaining younger students, in particular, were struggling with being detained at the school. A handful tried to confront the lieutenant directly, demanding access to a telephone to try and connect with family members, or to be allowed to check on their homes with the promise to return, but the lieutenant would not be moved. As time went on, some of the soldiers began to demonstrate many of the same feelings, asking openly of the lieutenant and the colonel for permission to reach out to their own families as well. A few of these confrontations escalated to violence but were quickly diffused.

On the third day, Marvin and the other students assigned to breakfast duty that morning, found the bodies. Major Edgars and Major Unden had either taken their own lives, or took each other’s; regardless, their corpses were heaped on the floor against the wall next to the doors to the refurbished cafeteria, blood pooled and nearly completely dried into a sticky blight on the dirty floor, their standard issue pistols lying cold where they had been dropped. Helen added vomit to the scene.

Marvin was posted to the coffee pots. Maple and Grober stood nearby, having a conversation. Grober made no effort to lower his voice.

“That brings the count up to five, sir. We need to do something to stop the bleeding, so to speak. It was barely manageable with the number of personnel we had to begin with; we add more defectors, and at some point those kids are going to figure out they can overtake us with their numbers.”

“Your concern is appreciated, Grober, but truly, what would you have me do?” Maple crossed his arms behind his back and shook his head. “We can’t exactly ask for backup. The comms went down when the power went out; and even before then, it was radio silence from McClintock and Venture.” He sighed. “We were left with our orders and the duty to fulfill them, lieutenant. On our own.”

“With all due respect, sir, none of the conditions we were ever promised were delivered. We’re losing personnel and we’ve lost more than the expected numbers of subjects as well. The circumstances dictate we change our execution, or we risk complete failure.”

“Grober, calm down.” Maple shifted. “I hear what you’re saying. To an extent, I agree with you. But, you know as well as I do, we have our orders. If any of the top brass were to find out we changed anything about what they told us to do, here, we’d --”

“How do you expect they’ll find out? You said it yourself, communications are down. Chances are, most of them are holed up in a bunker or a Vault. They left the rest of us to get the job done.” Grober cracked his knuckles, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not saying we open the doors, let them out, and make it every man for himself on the outside. I’m just saying, we have to change how we’re operating through this mission before things go off like...well, like a nuke. Begging your pardon, sir.”

Maple sighed. “Do you have something in mind?”

“Not yet, sir. I didn’t want to spend too much time on a plan you weren’t willing to go along with.”

“Appreciate that,” Maple grunted. “Meantime, start spreading around that we’re going to change things up, boost the morale a bit.”

“Yes, sir.”

Marvin picked his jaw up off the floor and immediately turned his attention back to the coffee pots. He returned to the gym after breakfast feeling worried, and tired. The best he could come up with was that the army had been ordered to detain the students within the school, at all costs. The question he kept trying to ignore, was why?

“Can’t we at least be allowed to go to the library?” Rhonda was begging of Farleigh, the latter of whom was looking particularly pale and saggy. “We’re all so bored, I’m sure that the most book-hating among us would be glad for a change of scenery and the opportunity to at least pick up a comic book.”

“Take it to the higher-ups, girl,” Farleigh waved her off without the slightest amount of care or enthusiasm.

Rhonda sighed. “Why would they listen to me, instead of you?”

“I didn’t say they would.”

“God,” she rolled her eyes, then noticed Marvin. “You look awful.”

“What do you mean? It’s not like I’ve been wearing the same clothing for a week in a dusty gym without having showered and helping to cook massive meals.” Marvin flicked some fake debris off his shoulder. Rhonda giggled.

“Fair enough. I’m sure most of us are glad for the lack of mirrors.”

They made their way back to the area of the gym they’d claimed as their own. Marvin made eye contact with Lucas and flicked his brow. Lucas raised his own.

“Something up?”

“They’re planning something,” Marvin replied, keeping his voice low but not caring if any of his other friends heard him. “We found two of them lying dead outside the kitchen, and apparently, there’ve been two or three others. They’re worried they’re going to lose their own numbers too fast, so they’re going to change how they operate.”

Lucas’ entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Well, go on! Change, how?”

“They don’t know, yet.”

“The soldiers are killing themselves?” squeaked Rhonda. “What...why would they do that?”

“Whatever it is that they know, that we still don’t, it’s bringing them to take their own lives,” Lucas replied. He reached over and took Rhonda’s hand in his. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Or,” Marvin added, his confusion about Lucas’ gesture mixing with genuine irritation, “they’re feeling just as trapped and hopeless as the rest of us, but they actually have the means to do something about it.”

There was an awkward pause. “That might be true,” Rhonda added slowly. “I hadn’t thought about that.” She gave Marvin a serious look. “You’re not thinking about doing something like...like _ that _, are you, Marv?”

“Maybe, let’s go have a talk?” Lucas suggested before Marvin could even answer. Marvin noticed Lucas squeeze Rhonda’s hand in reassurance before releasing it and leading Marvin towards a less populated spot along the wall.

“What the hell is all that?” Marvin growled, not bothering with any other pleasantries.

“What, with Rhonda?”

“Yes, with Rhonda!”

“Whoa, man. What do you care? You were all googly-eyed for Cynthia, you never once said anything about --”

“That’s not what I mean.” Marvin glared at his friend, almost noticing for the first time his friend’s sickly pallor and sunken features. “I know you, Lucas Farrington, and what you’re like.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Lucas chuckled.

“I mean that if you think I’m going to stand around and let you lead her on, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I’m not -- goddammit, Marv. I don’t need to explain anything to you. I wanted to make sure you were okay and not thinking about doing anything harmful to yourself.” Lucas balled his hands into fists, where they twitched at his sides. “I can see now, you’re just jealous.”

Marvin found himself raising his voice as he spoke in his defense. “I already told you, it’s not that! Rhonda is like a sister to me, so yeah, I care about her. We’ve all lost our homes and our families, and I sure as hell won’t let you break her heart!”

“What do you know?!” Lucas’ voice had become shrill. “I noticed her a long time ago, but never thought she’d give me the time of day, especially since you were so close with her. I thought I had to be in band, or take advanced classes, but in the last couple of days, I just started talking to her, and I told her the truth about how I felt. And she feels the same.”

Marvin reached up and rubbed his eyes with his palms. “How can this be true?”

“How? I’ll tell you how. You were too busy being moonstruck over Cynthia, you had no time for anyone else. That’s how.”

“I’ve only liked Cynthia for a couple of weeks!”

“Ha ha!” Lucas barked so loudly, more than a few nearby students startled and looked over. “Try at least half a year, bud. It’s amazing she has been so oblivious about it this whole time, too. The entire eleventh grade knew you were crushing on her. But, we all knew you had no chance, too, which is maybe why no one said anything.”

Blood roared in Marvin’s ears. He felt his face burn as though it were lit on fire. “Shut up! Don’t say shit like that, Lucas, even though you’re mad!”

“You’re jealous, plain and simple,” Lucas pointed his finger in Marvin’s chest, which caused Marvin to become even angrier. “You bombed with Cynthia, and now you can’t stand it for any of your other friends to be happy in the way you wished you could be.” He loomed over Marvin, his expression dark and cloudy. “Maybe you should kill yourself, if you’re just going to try to make the rest of us miserable.”

Marvin was livid. He could hardly believe the conversation they were having. He took a swipe at Lucas, who smoothly avoided the hit, and laughed. Marvin clenched his teeth and took another step towards his friend, his arms outstretched, intending to hit, or grab, or just make Lucas _ hurt _. Lucas merely dodged around him, a frenzied smirk on his face. Marvin crouched to leap, when Grober’s voice crackled over that godforsaken megaphone again.

“Students! Listen up! Donald Stockade, your former student council president, has some things he would like to say to you.”

The entire gym suddenly fell silent. Marvin froze, too surprised to remember to be furious with Lucas. Lucas, too, found himself turning towards the middle of the room. There was a clicking, then a small buzz, and for the first time in days was the magnified voice of a civilian.

“Hi, everyone! Yes, it’s me, your _ current _ student council president, Don!” Donald, a solid five foot ten inches, swiped some of his unwashed auburn hair off of his forehead and offered Grober a smirk. “As far as I know, I haven’t been impeached, which means, I’m still the president. Nukes or not, am I right?”

There was a small titter of laughter.

“All right, so. We’re having a tough time right now. We’re hungry, we’re dirty, we’ve lost every bit of privacy we’ve ever known.” Donald paused. “We’ve lost our homes and our families.” Another pause. Marvin began to wonder how long the smarmy bastard had been rehearsing this. He took a quick glance around at the dimly lit faces all mesmerized with Donald’s figure and voice. “But we’re still alive. And while we live, we can still have hope. Maybe even peace!

“I’ve been talking to Mr. Grober, and I want you all to know, while we might be all that remains of the formal institution of public education, I still represent you all, and have your best interests at heart. That’s why I both proposed and argued for some changes to be made around here.

“The military -- who, by the way, really has done a great job keeping us safe, sheltered, and fed, so we owe them our respect -- has agreed to let us set up some activities in the gym. We’re going to be able to put up some equipment, organize some dodgeball. They’ll take us in groups to the library and the art rooms so those who would like to read or paint can do so.

“Lastly...and this is the most important. They’ll remain the authority figures, but like our teachers had been. They’ll make the major safety decisions and keep us on a schedule, but instead of patrolling around us, they’ll integrate and even participate if they choose. They’ve lost their homes and families, too. They deserve our empathy as well as our respect.”

“You traitorous shit for brains!” roared a familiar voice from the stands. All eyes swept towards the origin of the voice. Marvin could see there was dark staining on the upper arm of Clyde’s sleeve; he wondered if it was a bullet wound sustained from when he was attempting to escape the week prior. He could see little other details, being on the opposite side of the gym, but one thing was very clear: Clyde raised his hand and launched a projectile directly at Donald’s head.

Clyde had been on the varsity baseball team as a pitcher. His aim was true. A full can of water sailed in a magnificent arc to make contact with the side of Donald’s head. The impact caused Donald to wobble off balance as he threw his head back, then down, clutching it in his hand. The water can landed on the floor with a crack and began to leak. Surprised gasps and shrieks erupted throughout the room. Marvin watched as a few people gathered around Donald, while two soldiers swarmed towards the bleachers. Grober snatched up the megaphone.

“Stand down!” he ordered the soldiers. “Stand down, immediately!”

Clyde stood his ground, a devilish smirk that looked even more devious in the low light and shadows. He playfully tossed another can up and down in his hand. Marvin couldn’t help but feel impressed by his classmate’s gumption.

Donald tapped Grober on the arm and motioned for the megaphone to be returned to his hand. “Everyone, it’s okay. I’m okay. My friend,” he addressed towards Clyde, “it’s okay to disagree with me, politically. Though, like my mom used to say, next time just use your words.”

Nervous laughter responded. Clyde caught the can he was tossing and gripped it in his hand, but made no move to throw it. Seemingly satisfied that he was safe, Donald continued.

“Now, where was I? Oh, right. So. We need some volunteers, senior students or not, to help organize some groups and activities. If you’re interested in helping out, please come up to Mr. Grober’s desk and we’ll find you a job! Are there any questions?”

Several students spoke at once.

“When are we going to get the all clear?”

“How long do we have to stay here?”

“What if I don’t like dodgeball?”

“Can we have mac and cheese for dinner?”

Marvin let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He caught Lucas’ eye. His friend appeared to have calmed down from their earlier confrontation. Marvin opened his mouth to say something, but Lucas balled his fists again and gave his head a quick shake. Marvin stood rooted to the spot as he watched Lucas return to Rhonda’s side and wrap his arm around her shoulders. They exchanged a few words. She hugged him then made her way towards Grober’s station.

Out of habit, Marvin scanned the room for Cynthia. He found her in the line to volunteer at Grober’s station. She was grinning from ear to ear and holding hands with that miserable trombone player. To add insult to injury, he leaned down and kissed her on her beautiful dark head. Jealousy boiled in his blood. He whipped around on his heel and nearly collided completely with Dottie, who had once again magically appeared directly behind him, this time with a full case of water.

“Would you please stop doing that?”

Dottie ignored him. “Christ, Marvin, what’s got you --” She glanced past him and appeared to see exactly what had got him so upset. She looked back at him. “Ah. Tough break. Here you go.”

Marvin accepted the water, finding no words. He elected to pop the tab and take a swig, hoping the weird taste would distract him enough. Dottie lingered.

“She wouldn’t have been a good match for you,” she offered without prompting.

“I guess,” he managed after swallowing. “What do you know? Why do you care?”

Dottie shrugged. She moved off without another word. Marvin finished his water in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

Things were calm, almost pleasant, for the countless days that followed. The military relaxed some of the restrictions on access to the facility at large, which allowed the students to spread out more fully and have some much needed space from each other. Most of the main floor was open for free range use, though supervisory guards were sprinkled throughout. In general, any classrooms that hadn’t caved in provided peaceful places for reading or art, but now and then, Marvin would walk in on a couple in varying stages of undress, resulting in a quickly muttered apology and a hasty, blushing retreat.

His own feelings about Cynthia had all but completely evaporated. He was still mad at himself for not making any kind of move sooner than he did, and when he happened to see her in the crowd, his stomach still did a little flop. He barely noticed the thick, greasy sheen of her unwashed hair, her stockings nearly black with filth, or the sag of her unlaundered blouse. Lenny, the only one of his friends still talking to him, suggested he just needed to distract himself and eventually he’d forget all about how he used to feel about her.

Marvin hoped he was right.

After all, the only thing any of them had, was time.

A number of the soldiers began to put their own guard down, in a way, opening themselves up and becoming friendlier. Some of them had lost high school-aged kids of their own and developed a kinship with those who particularly still found it difficult to cope with the new reality. Marvin found it fascinating in a way, to observe how new bonds and relationships had started to develop. He even found himself making some new friends with students he’d never seen before as he spent most of his time, when he wasn’t required to cook, in one of the new art rooms.

The days went on. The rations held; Marvin couldn’t help but think that with the human losses they’d sustained, it made the food and water last longer than projected. Appetites dwindled; they regularly reheated, or repurposed leftovers to cut back on waste. Either no one noticed, or if they did, they didn’t say anything. Not like complaining would have done anyone any good. Marvin speculated they were all just grateful to be able to eat, at all.

The first sign that things were starting to go wrong was when a large number of the youngest students stopped eating, completely. Some of them had begun vomiting immediately after meals, while others simply refused food and took water, only. Tabitha, Rhonda’s sister, was one of these. After the second day of tearfully begging her sister to at least take two spoonfuls of oatmeal, resulting in Tabitha dumping the entire bowl over Rhonda’s head, the elder gave up trying. Tabitha was scolded for wasting the food and assigned to all cleaning duties for the remainder of the day. Tensions had mostly eased between Marvin and his friends, though none of them ever brought up the fight they’d had, and they still each kept separate from each other during waking hours. Marvin had reached over and squeezed Rhonda’s arm gently and was surprised at how thin and spongy it had become. He studied her face -- his eyes had long become adjusted to the low lighting -- and thought that not only had her features become sunken, but withered. When had that happened? Did he look the same?

The military medic reassured his superiors and the students both that what they were experiencing was completely normal. He suggested that the body needed stimulation as much as the mind, and after a few unfortunate injuries involving baseballs being thrown and hit in the hallways, Colonel Maple finally agreed to continued rearrangement of their use of the remaining school space. The structurally sound classrooms remaining on the second floor had their desks and chairs removed and added to the void of debris that was the caved in section of the school. Following that, the cots and sleeping bags that still took up the majority of the gym space were hauled upstairs and re-settled into what were the new sleeping quarters. It was then that Marvin realized a lot of the odour hanging around in the gym came from the cheap fabric on the cot matresses and sleeping bags, having absorbed sweat and teenage body funk for days on end.

“The windows will remain sealed for your safety,” Maple ordered, as though answering the question on everyone’s mind.

“What time is it? It’s so dark out,” remarked Helen Almanac, squinting at the glass.

“It’s always dark, now, because of the nuclear winter. Clouds, dust, storms. It’s terrible out there,” answered Macintosh.

“Is it daytime, though?”

“Who knows,” yawned Victoria Terrain, a freshman. “Can we sleep if we want to?”

Maple exchanged a look with Grober. Ultimately, the former shrugged. “Sure. Why not? With how dark it is inside and out, it’s not like any of us have a proper circadian cycle.”

“The tilt of the earth is probably screwed up, too. Who knows what the long term impact on the climate will be?” added Macintosh.

“That’s the next generation’s problem,” shrugged Maple, ushering everyone out but Victoria. “Now, go play some sports or something, to make the doc happy.”

Two days later, Marvin was sitting up at the window, staring out into the ruined town. A number of the students had taken well to the less regimented sleep schedule, including more than a few of the soldiers. He’d thought he was sleepy, but once he made it up the stairs and found an unoccupied cot, his body refused to settle. 

The outside world was hauntingly peaceful. It was clear long before then that nowhere nearby had sustained a direct nuclear impact, but the destructive nature of the fallout and the earthquakes was evident. There was no proper light to speak of out there; the buildings were fully dark inside, and none of the street lights were lit; but the lightning flashes from the storm were brilliant enough to illuminate the immediate surroundings in bright, surreal flashes for Marvin to get a sense of what he was looking at.

It began to rain. Huge, toxic raindrops fell straight from the sky, adding a thick blurriness to the view. Marvin sighed softly and closed his eyes. He leaned his head gently against the window and listened to the low pattering sound from outside. His breathing had just begin to slow, and sleepiness finally started to settle in, when an odd crackling sound buzzed in his ears. His eyes fluttered open and instinctively looked out the window. The crackling -- no, it was more of a pinging, followed by a minute crumbling -- was heard again. Marvin squinted, searching the darkness through the rain, when his eyes settled on a light in the window of the abandoned frat house across the road.

There was a sudden surge in the number of crackles and pings, and finally Marvin realized it was gunfire.

_ Gunfire! _

“Someone’s shooting us!” he screamed out of pure panic. He dove to the floor, ducking beneath the window sill. There were cries of alarm and surprise from a few of the students who had been slumbering. Heavy thudding of footsteps from the hallway produced the form of one of the soldiers, Bradshawe, who stood for a moment assessing the situation.

“Where?” Bradshawe clipped. Marvin raised his hand and pointed over his head at the window. Bradshawe nodded and held his hand out for quiet. There was another round of gunfire; this time, one of the hostile bullets found a weak spot in the pane, punching a hole through it and creating a small spray of glass to sprinkle down over Martin’s head.

Bradshawe pointed at the first student he saw return his eye contact. “Kill that light!” The student blinked, then followed his gesture, crawling towards the battery operated lantern and snuffing it out. Bradshawe then crept low towards the window and looked at Marvin. “Did you see anyone?”

Marvin shook his head. “Just a light in the house across the street.”

There were sounds of screaming from the next room, and a loud thud boomed from below. Bradshawe squat next to the window, his eyes narrowed, searching the outside. “How many lights did you see?”

“Only one.” Marvin sat on the floor against the wall, his back next to the window.

“There’s more, now,” Bradshawe added gruffly. Marvin swallowed.

“All personnel, assemble in the foyer immediately, and come armed!” ordered Colonel Maple through the speaker system. Bradshawe looked at Marvin.

“You’re one of the older kids, right? You’re in charge of this room. You’re all to stay in here until we get back. Do you understand?”

“I...that is...I mean...y-yes, okay. Sir.”

Bradshawe barely lingered long enough to hear Marvin’s answer. He deftly stepped over the sprawled bodies towards the door and pulled it shut on the way out. All the students in the room were awake by then, sitting up and muttering in confusion.

“What’s happening?” yawned Archie Tinkermeyer, a sophomore who had adopted himself to Marvin’s side some time ago. He reached up and rubbed his hand over his head.

“Something’s going on outside,” Marvin replied calmly. “The soldiers are handling it. You can go back to sleep.”

The sounds of intermittent gunfire, raised voices, and more thudding came from below and through the small hole in the window. The slosh patter of the rain hitting the ground was much more distinct, as well. Marvin never realized how effective the thick glass was at shutting out noise. He sprung to life, pressing his ear to the hole in the glass to listen.

The storm continued. Suddenly the area was awash with a highly unnatural, bright white light. The military had found a way to turn on their floodlights. Ignoring all previous directives, Marvin stood up and looked out the window to watch the scene, below. He was instantly crowded by the other students. 

“What’s happening? Can anyone see?” someone asked from where they stood in front of one of the other windows.

“The soldiers are outside, and there’s...people. Actual people,” exclaimed someone else. Any lingering drowsiness was evaporating quickly in the excitement of the action, outside.

“Shut up! Maple’s saying something!” Marvin barked, surprised at the harsh tone in his own voice.

“...is your final warning. Back away and leave this facility. We are heavily armed and better trained, we  _ will _ fire.”

The entire room fell silent. Morbidly intrigued by the first signs of real life outside the school, the small group of students in the room bumped and jostled each other around in an attempt to each find a meaningful line of sight out the window. Several small clouds of condensation collected against the dirty window glass.

“Who are they?” Archie breathed into Marvin’s ear. Marvin shrugged.

“No idea. Just some survivors, I guess. They were shooting at the building.” He gestured at the bullet hole in the glass.

“Do they want to kill us?”

Marvin shrugged, again. He found himself surprisingly apathetic towards the thought of the school being raided and the students being murdered. “The soldiers won’t let them get near us. Keeping us alive is important to them.”

Archie startled. “What? Why?”

“Whatever their orders were, it had to do with keeping us here. It’s always been that way.”

Archie’s eyes were wide, an expression made even more dramatic by his sunken facial features. “Did they tell you that?”

Marvin blinked. “Why do you think we’re all still here?”

Archie’s mouth opened and shut before he could splutter out some words. “I guess I thought, because the government cared about kids…”

Marvin’s frown softened. He clapped the younger student on the back and gestured for them to listen out the window, again. Maple’s distinctive deep voice and sharp tone made its way to their eardrums, cutting through the sound of the rain and wind easily without the megaphone. He was arguing with someone. Marvin craned his neck and strained his vision to see what was going on. Half a dozen soldiers were gathered behind Maple, their guns loaded and trained on the battered and ratty looking survivors lined up at the barriers. The rain continued to pour down, causing the world under the floodlights to appear slick and artificially shiny.

The wind picked up, drowning out any possibility of picking up distinct words or phrases from the scene, below. There was a sudden pounding of a set of wet footsteps, followed by the loud and angry voice of Grober shouting in the hallway. “Get your sorry asses out here, NOW! I don’t care if you have to stand on top of each other; GET OUT HERE!”

Marvin exchanged a look with Archie and a couple other students in his room. They slowly filed out into the hallway, as ordered. Grober had a flashlight in his hand that he was shining off the ceiling to create a low, but far reaching, glow.

“One of you little shits has been making contact and promises with the outside world, and now, we’ve got entitled anarchists at the front fucking door demanding food and water.” Grober, clearly agitated, made no attempt to soften his language. “Whoever it was, is going to confess  _ immediately _ .”

Several people turned towards where Clyde was standing next to the door across the hall from Marvin. He blinked, before starting to laugh maniacally. “You...you all think...ha ha ha! Why would I  _ give _ away our supplies? If I knew going outside was an option, I’d have taken off forever ago.” He shook his head. “I ain’t got time for you assholes.” Clyde turned and left the group.

Marvin could almost feel Grober grinding his teeth. “I ain’t got time for bullshit,” he growled in the same tone as Clyde’s. “Those survivors out there are armed and a real threat to our lives, and someone is going to confess right now or you’re all going without food and water until they do!”

There was a nervous hush amongst the students. Marvin looked around the crowd, finding his friends and reading nothing in their faces. Finally, there was a heavy sigh from the doorway closest to Grober. Donald Stockade tossed his head and ran his hand through his greasy mass of hair. His back was to Marvin, making it impossible for the latter to see any kind of facial expression.

“Mr. Grober, I --” Donald began but was sharply cut off.

“You will address me by my rank and title, right now, if you know what’s good for you!”

Donald paused. “Yes, of course, sir. Lieutenant Grober. It was completely by chance that I encountered those survivors the other day and I assure you, my interactions with them were purely out of the best interests of the student body.”

Grober’s voice was full of daggers. “What happened?”

“I was removing the trash, sir, as some of us are assigned to do, now. There I was, walking along the concrete to the dumpsters on the back wall, when I saw something. As I’m sure you know, the visibility out of those hazmat suit helmets isn’t the greatest, and --”

“Cut to the chase!”

Donald took a breath. “There was a kid, picking through the garbage. I looked around and didn’t see anyone else. I gave them the can of water I had in my back pocket and forgot about it, until the next day. Which was...yesterday, I guess. It’s hard to tell which day is which, at the moment.

“There was a small group of them, just some survivors. No weapons or anything, but they looked tired and hungry. Their hair was falling out and everything. They begged me for something more.”

“Why did you not tell any of us in command about this?”

Donald shrugged. “I don’t know. I told you, they seemed harmless. They asked me what was going on in the school, and I told them.”

A distinct pause. “You told them...what, exactly?” Grober demanded.

“Well, I told them we were locked in here with you and your regiment, and we didn’t know when we’d be let out. They didn’t seem to think that was okay. They said, if I slipped them some supplies, they’d come back to free us. So, I did, and I guess, that’s who’s outside.”

“They came to free us of our supplies, you moron!” cried Rhonda. “Did you really think a group of people already struggling were going to take on a hundred teenagers, too?”

Donald sighed, throwing his head back, before turning towards Rhonda’s voice. “They said they’d let us out, and frankly, that seemed like the best thing for the student body, right now.”

“But why?” squeaked a small voice that Marvin didn’t recognize.

“‘Why?’ What a stupid question! How can being locked in here, literally wallowing in our own filth, drinking that funny tasting water, and kept from checking on our families, at all be better than being let out?” Donald’s voice took on a very convincing tone. “I’ve been out there. It’s really not that bad! A lot of the buildings are still standing, and I’m sure if we stayed in small groups and put our minds together, we’d be able to survive. How does that not sound like a good idea? The sun is bound to come back out someday, and besides, there’d be fresh air! Do none of you smell how awful it is, in here? Or have you all lost your sense of smell?”

Marvin had tuned out most of what Donald rambled about, after mentioning the “funny tasting water.” With a guilty pang, he wondered if Dottie had heard it, too. He did notice that Clyde had silently reappeared at the edge of the crowd, listening carefully.

“That’s quite enough,” Grober declared firmly. He reached over to take Donald by the arm. “You’re going to come with me and have a chat with the colonel, and the rest of you --”

Donald savagely pulled his arm from Grober’s grip and went so far as to swat the lieutenant’s hand away. “I will do no such thing! In fact, I demand you let those of us who want to leave, to do so! You have no authority to keep us here.”

Grober’s face darkened. Even in the low light, Marvin imagined it was flushed red with fury. The lieutenant straightened himself up and raised his voice once more. “I absolutely do have the authority. Each and every one of you are the property of the United States government, and if your president wanted you to stay here, in this school, to drink your water, and eat your oatmeal, then it’s your patriotic duty to do so.”

“Mr. Grober, I must say -- AHHHH!!” Donald’s reply was interrupted by a crunch and spurt of blood, as Lieutenant Grober’s fist had swiftly swung out and made contact with Donald’s nose. Grober grabbed the front of the student council president’s shirt, then addressed the group at large once more.

“Get back into bed, now. If you weren’t sleeping, you may sit in the hallway, quietly. No one leaves this area. I don’t care if you piss yourself.” With a sharp nod, Grober turned and began to drag a blubbering Donald back towards the stairs. The students behind him parted quickly to let them through. The light withdrew as quickly as Grober took it with him. A handful of the remaining students began to trickle back into the classrooms once their eyes had re-adjusted to the darkness. The rest stood in the hall, staring at each other.

“Come on, you guys,” chirped Cynthia from somewhere in the throng. “We were told to go back to bed, so let’s do it. Come on!”

“I hate to say it, but ol’ Don had a point,” drawled Clyde. All heads turned toward him in a dramatic fashion. Instead of elaborating further, though, he retreated into the dark classroom behind him once more. There was some muttering and the crowd began to retreat, following Clyde’s lead. Marvin picked his way past the cots and sleeping bags once more to settle himself back at the window. The flood light was still on, and the rain had subsided, but the voices were no longer as raised as before. The civilians appeared to have been given two crates of supplies and Maple was waving them away.

“Do you think they’ll be back?” Archie asked.

Marvin shrugged, feeling annoyed. He gestured for Archie to be quiet so he could keep listening. The civilians began to turn and move away from the barriers, carrying their supplies, their lanterns lilting in the sway of their steps.

“Fire!” Maple barked, his word and voice cutting easily through the environment, hitting Marvin’s ears perfectly. The scene below lit up in the spark and noise of gunfire. Marvin gasped and pressed his face against the window, watching as the army gunned down the civilians in front of them, snuffing out their lives with ease. Reactionary gasps and screams sounded from around him, causing Marvin to startle; he had been so focused on watching the scene in the street, he didn’t realize others had crowded around him.

From the corner of his eye, he saw fire aimed at the building across the street; he could only guess that some of the personnel had crept around the back building to surprise attack. The sound of screaming intensified, and not just from the ground level; obviously, none of the students had gone back to sleep and were watching the firestorm below. Maple was barking. Blood began to run down the ruined road, mixing with rainwater, making grotesque rivers that made their way to the gutters.

Two soldiers stepped out from behind the barriers, bashing the butts of their rifles into the skulls of the dead civilians. One of them collected both crates and carried them back towards the school, stacked one on top of the other. The second concluded his morbid duty and followed suit. Without warning, the flood lights went out. Marvin blinked several times. The sheer brightness of the flood lights against the slick, shiny outdoor environment had caused spots to appear on his eyes. Someone in the room had the wherewithal to turn the lantern back on, which helped, but seemed like a paltry substitute for the brightest light any of them had seen in days.

Maple’s voice crackled over the speaker system. “There will be a mandatory assembly at eight o’clock sharp tomorrow morning. For those of you who seem to have forgotten basic language, ‘mandatory’ means you absolutely need to attend. Go back to sleep -- or, don’t -- and be prepared for the wake up call in the morning. We have a  _ lot _ to talk about. Maple, out.”

Marvin woke abruptly to the sound of an airhorn being blasted through the PA system. He jerked upright and found himself unsure of his surroundings for a solid ten seconds, before realizing he was on his sleeping bag in the former English room. The airhorn sounded again, spawning a number of grumbles, growls, and groans from the groggy students around him. Instinctively, Marvin looked towards the windows, but found himself disappointed with what he saw. Nothing but darkness beyond, and he knew that wasn’t simply due to the glare of the lantern. He rubbed his eyes, pulled his Chucks back on, and joined the group of slow-moving teens in the hallway, all making their way to the main floor.

There was minimal chatter amongst the students as they shuffled through the dimly-lit hallways. Marvin got a sense that, as it had been weeks since the military had exercised absolute ruling, the majority of the students were apprehensive about what a mandatory assembly would mean. 

“Tabitha. Tabitha, hey!” Rhonda was calling from somewhere behind Marvin. He turned to seek out his friends in the crowd. Rhonda was tugging on her younger sister’s sleeve, trying to get her attention. From where he was positioned in the group, he couldn’t see Tabitha’s facial expression, but her gaze was downcast. She made no verbal nor physical response to her sister’s cries, other than to pull her arm out of Rhonda’s grasp.  _ Maybe she’s just depressed _ , Marvin thought to himself.

Grober was barking orders over the megaphone, reminiscent of the day the bombs fell. The students were being directed to enter the gym and sit onto the floor. Marvin made his way towards the back. He spotted Lucas and Lenny, but neither had space around them for him to join them. Disappointed, he settled in his spot and sat down. Archie joined him.

Something seemed off. Marvin looked around as the rest of the students continued to file into the gym, and realized that the military were all wearing full uniform and openly carrying their weapons. It dawned on him that very few had done so in the past several weeks.  _ They’re definitely going to try and remind us of their authority. _

The last few students came in, and the doors to the gym were closed once more. Maple gestured for the megaphone. He surveyed the crowd, his brow narrowed, before raising the megaphone to his face and started to speak.

“Good morning,” he began. The murmuring ceased, and all eyes were fixed at the front of the room. Maple looked over the crowd once more, nodded once to himself, then continued. “For the past few weeks, in an attempt to keep peace, order, and as much comfort as possible, many of us shed our colours and some boundaries. It seems necessary to have to remind each and every one of you that assimilation is not the same as absconding from our authority.”

There was a low rumble of muttering in the gym. Maple continued, undeterred.

“Bring him up here,” he gestured to his right. Grober forcefully led Donald Stockade from the corner of the room to stand in front of Maple and the students. Donald’s wrists were duct taped together, and Marvin thought his face was a little bruised as well. Maple pointed at Donald, but faced the crowd. “This individual saw fit to conspire with civilians on the outside, despite having been given strict orders never to do so. Regardless, he defied this direct order, and as a result, there was a situation last night that forced us to use deadly force.”

Donald scoffed at that final remark, but did not say more. Maple continued.

“Those civilians attacked the school with both firearms and threats. Unfortunately, after some discussion, negotiations fell apart, and we were required to eliminate those civilians for the safety and security of this facility and each and every one of your lives.”

Marvin’s face suddenly felt red hot. He knew he didn’t hear most of the words exchanged between the two groups, but he definitely knew what he saw. He swallowed, hard. Archie made a little squeak next to him. He wondered if the younger student was feeling the same way.

Maple motioned to Grober, who pushed Donald to stand directly next to the colonel. “Let this be a warning to the rest of you that insubordination will not be tolerated. Our orders forbid us from terminating this scumbag piece of shit,” he snarled, causing Donald to roll his eyes, “but we can and will punish him.” Without further preamble, Maple shoved the megaphone into the hands of the soldier to his right, swung, and landed a punch to Donald’s face. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Donald fell to his knees from the force, unable to find his balance with his hands bound the way that they were.

“Your American government chose each and every one of you to be saved from the nukes and protected from the world that would emerge in the fallout. It is your utmost patriotic duty to keep your goddamn heads down and do what you are told, and nothing more! Is that clear?!”

Stunned silence followed. Marvin felt a mix of emotions, from frustration, to anger, to straight up fear. He hadn’t exactly formed any sort of tentative friendships with any of the soldiers, but he did have to admit he’d felt much more comfortable with their presence than he should have.

Donald was laughing. It was a wet, snuffling kind of sound. He finally raised his head and it was evident as to why: his nose was gushing blood, over his lips and down his chin. He swabbed some of the blood from around his lips with his tongue and lobbed it as a glob of spit to land in front of Maple’s feet. “What...government?” he growled. His words were slow, but his voice was clear and easily heard in the silence of the gym. Maple merely gawked at him. Donald offered a smile, which was particularly evil-looking on his bloodied face. “You think the White House wasn’t the first target of those Commies? And where did the President disappear to, weeks before the bombs?” He began to laugh. Whispering bubbled up from the crowd. Marvin chanced a glance at Archie, who sat completely still, his eyes wide. “You’re just on some power trip, old man,” Donald wheezed between chuckles. “Feeding us tainted food and water...for what purpose? To see how much we can take before we die?”

Maple launched a swift kick to Donald’s groin. There was another horrified gasp from the crowd, mostly male-sounding that time. Donald crumpled to the floor. Maple punched him in the back of the head. “Ungrateful brat! But I shouldn’t be surprised, considering you’re a traitorous bastard.” Maple straightened and looked out over the crowd once again. He motioned for the megaphone and it appeared in his hand. “Anyone else feeling brave?”

There was an immediate silence. Maple nodded, appearing satisfied.

“Good! Now, I know a few of you have mentioned that some of the rations, particularly the water, has a funny taste to it. I was never supposed to disclose this to anyone without the proper clearance, so let that sink in for a moment.” He paused. A hushed ripple of whispers washed through the crowd. “On D-day, we were ordered to replace all of the dry and canned goods in the cafeteria with the special rations given to us by Vault-Tec, on behalf of the US government. On the missive, there was a small note that some of the items of food and drink may taste different than expected, but that this is normal. These rations had been scientifically modified to be higher in vitamins, minerals, and protein, which would allow us to use smaller amounts and therefore, stretch them out longer. Due to the inherent nature of teenagers requiring higher amounts of calories and nutritional support, the government agreed to this.”

“Lab food...experimental food…!” erupted a panicked cry from somewhere in the gym. This resulted in additional, similar cries of alarm to spring up throughout the crowd. A hand was suddenly clamped on Marvin’s upper arm. He turned to see Archie’s very stunned and pale face staring back at him.

“What does that mean? Was all that food untested? Are they testing it on us?” Archie’s voice trembled in thinly-veiled panic. “My mom was an assistant at the University and she told me a few things about Vault-Tec, like, what they let some of the senior students study, and --”

“Calm down! Be silent, immediately! The food and water are completely safe. Your government wouldn’t deliberately poison you,” Maple barked. He sounded as though he was beginning to lose his patience.

“You shot at us on the very first day! Did you think we’d forget?!” shrieked Kelly Bravas, much to Marvin’s complete shock.

“That was -- we took the proper measures to control a dangerous mob!”

“You shot those people last night, all when their backs were turned, you lying bastard!” cried a male voice that Marvin didn’t know. The person who spoke boldly stood up where he was sitting and addressed the crowd, himself. “I saw it, and I know I wasn’t the only one.” He rounded on Maple. “Why should we keep trusting you?”

There was a distinct pause. Maple finally lifted the megaphone to speak. “You don’t have to trust us at all. The truth is, we control your food, we control your water, and we have the weapons. Until now, everything we have done has been in the best interests of your health and safety, and that’s exactly what we will continue to do.”

“What does that mean?” Archie whispered into Marvin’s ear. He turned to look at the younger student, and frowned.

“It means that, whether we like it or not, they’re in charge of if we live, or die.”

Archie closed his gaping mouth, and swallowed. Marvin let out a heavy exhale and lifted his head once more, only to meet Dottie’s eyes from across the room in his gaze. He stopped short, and blinked. Her expression appeared completely blank, but he couldn’t be totally sure that wasn’t due to her sunken eyes and cheeks. He gave her a slow nod, though he didn’t know what possessed him to do it, which she returned. His heart fluttered.

_ What the hell? Dottie’s the worst! _ Marvin wrenched his gaze back to the front of the room. Maple was talking to some students at the front sans megaphone. Most of the students had become restless, waiting for dismissal or additional instructions. The other soldiers walked between the rows, not particularly menacing, but certainly present. Maple moved back to the center and raised the megaphone for one final time.

“For now, we will continue to let you use the space as we had been. We all agree that it seemed to be the healthiest choice. However, going forward, none of you will step a single toe outside the building, and if we find any of you conversing with civilians on the outside through any method, there will be very strict and severe consequences. Breakfast prep crew, you are expected in the kitchen. The rest of you are dismi--”

There was a sudden, very high-pitched distress shriek from in front of Marvin. He peered around the girl’s shoulders to see her holding in her hands the full braid of hair that used to belong to the head of the student directly in front of her. Others turned to see what the alarm was about, only to start screaming, themselves. Finally, the former owner of the braid turned, her eyes slowly widening in shock and terror as they moved between her hair, the face of her friend holding it, back to the hair...she raised her hands to feel that, indeed, the back of her head was completely bald, and added her own voice to the screaming chorus.

Two soldiers descended upon the situation, while all the rest began urging the remaining students back to their feet and to move along.


	6. Chapter 6

“It just doesn’t make any real sense,” Booker Kerwood hissed. About a dozen students were huddled around a textbook cracked open and laying on the library floor. Four other textbooks were stacked next to it. It was two days after the assembly. They’d stolen themselves to a spot between the bookshelves in the furthest corner possible, a lantern in the middle of their circle.  _ Well, more like an oval _ , Marvin thought. “Every single resource is quite clear and specific about the physical signs of radiation poisoning: skin problems, hair loss, vomiting.” He paused, pushing his glasses up his nose for dramatic effect. “Death.”

“Her whole fucking braid fell off, old chap,” Clyde replied. “You don’t consider that hair loss?”

Booker shook his head and pushed on. “Look at the pictures. It’s more like a systemic hair loss, a gradual shedding over time.” He picked up one of the closed books from the pile and flipped through it, then thrust it at Clyde. “That girl maintained a complete and full head of hair, until suddenly,” he flicked his hand.

“We’ve all become more wrinkly, though,” Rhonda offered nervously, holding out her own arm as a visual example. “See? My skin’s made weird creases.”

“Right, but radiation sickness causes redness, lesions, blisters, peeling. All the books say so. Not to mention, those particular side effects appear pretty much immediately.” Booker swallowed and looked among the gathered faces. 

“It’s new year’s,” Dottie added softly, finishing Booker’s train of thought. He nodded.

Marvin crossed his arms and shifted his weight. “You can’t think we’re not being exposed to radiation, though? There’s no way the school was built air tight. None of these walls are six feet thick, either.”

Booker shrugged. “Oh, I’m sure we are, but not to the levels we would be if we were outside all the time.”

“Marv, you still help in the kitchen. Is there anything we’ve been given to eat or drink that didn’t come from the army’s secret stash?” Lenny asked him.

Marvin considered, then shook his head, slowly. “At the very beginning there was some eggs and butter, but I suppose I wouldn’t assume Vault-Tec hadn’t doctored those, too, somehow.”

“God,” Rhonda groaned, instinctively clutching her stomach.

“Don’t get panicked,” Booker cut in. “Whatever they fortified it with has altered our body’s response to exposure to radiation. At least, that’s what I think. I can’t know for sure, without having been in Vault-Tec’s labs and all that.”

“No, you’re probably right,” came a small voice from behind Marvin. They all turned to look at the dimly-lit visage of Archie Tinkermeyer. “I told you, my mom used to work in the labs at VTU. She never told me details, but more than once suggested that the things they experimented on…” He trailed off. “She was trying to find another job.”

“The modified food isn’t just higher in vitamins, but also contains some kind of drugs? Is that what you’re suggesting?” Clyde spoke again. He’d closed the book that Booker had handed him and was holding it between two fingers, as though it were vile.

Booker nodded. He lifted his arm and wiped his nose on his worn and ripped shirt sleeve. “Something like that.”

“Explains a few things, like the imprisonment, strict rules about the food, how closely we’re watched,” Dottie began. She turned and looked at Marvin. He thought she looked like she was smirking. “Why the water tastes funny.”

“Oh, you think so, too?” Booker perked up.

“Marvin does.”

“Shut up,” Marvin sighed. 

Rhonda pushed on. “Well, the soldiers have been eating all the same stuff, right? So they’re in the experiment, too.”

A collective pause. “Yes, that would be right,” Booker agreed.

“I guess my only question is: what is there to do about this situation?” Lenny mumbled, picking at his fingernails.

“Other than rise up and finally get the fuck out of here?” grinned Clyde.

“They’ll just shoot us,” Archie squeaked. “We’d all die trying.”

Clyde shrugged.

“I think we just...keep it in mind that whatever we’re consuming is causing changes to our bodies. Including our appetites, and moods,” Booker offered. He looked over at Rhonda, whose gaze was downcast. Tabitha, along with several others, had begun to withdraw nearly completely, keeping to the sleeping quarters, avoiding socialization, barely drinking. “And we should keep it to ourselves that we know we aren’t just suffering a form of radiation sickness. No matter how much they want to protect the project, we know they’ll take extreme measures to maintain control.”

There was a sniff and a small hiccup from Rhonda. Marvin looked over at her, surprised to see she’d started crying. She avoided all eye contact, nodded, and slipped away from the group.  _ Jesus. It must be hard enough to digest we’re just pawns in some government game, let alone to watch your own sister fade away as a result. _

“None of us asked for this,” Clyde growled, tossing the book back onto the floor, as though he was reading Marvin’s own mind. “And we weren’t given the option to opt out, either.”

“We were,” Dottie argued. “They had a firing range, the first day.”

Clyde blinked. He opened his mouth as though to say something, paused, then clamped his mouth shut with a “hmmph” before turning on his heel and walking away. The rest of the group also began to disperse.

“Here, I’ll help with those,” Marvin offered, stooping to pick up the textbooks left in the middle of the floor. Booker nodded his thanks, closing the one still in his hands and picking up the lantern. Marvin lifted the spine of the topmost book closer to his eyes to read the call number. Small things like maintaining the order of the dewey decimal system helped keep things feeling like there was still a bit of structure to the world. Two of the books had numbers in the same order of magnitude: chemistry. The third was physics. Both sections on the same side of the large room, but separated by several shelves.

The chemistry section was closer. Marvin made his way towards the proper shelves, snagging an unattended lantern off a table on his way to better illuminate his path, and the tiny print on the book labels. The area with the number range for the first chemistry book had no fewer than four stacks of books lying on the floor needing to be reshelved. Marvin couldn’t help but smirk to himself and got to work.

Several minutes later, he gazed over the filled shelves and sighed. Something about seeing the books, lined up in their correct order, back on the shelves, was extremely gratifying. He tucked the last book of his own original stack under his arm and turned to head towards the shelves housing the physics books, and nearly stepped on Dottie.

“ _ How _ do you keep doing that? And why?”

Dottie stooped and swept up the book he dropped in one smooth and easy motion. She glanced at the number on the spine. “Physics? That’s over there,” she nodded over her shoulder.

Marvin made no attempt to hide his annoyance. This girl kept showing up in weird places and at the weirdest times. He plucked the book from her hands. “I know.” He made to step around her, but she stepped in front of him.

“You sure you want to put that back, just now?” Dottie leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Donald just went back there. With Cynthia.”

Marvin stopped. His heart made a little flop at the immediate thought that Donald was Cynthia’s new boyfriend, but he swallowed it down. He straightened his posture and went so far as to show his indifference with a shrug. “I stopped liking her forever ago. I’ll be fine.” He moved to step around her once more, but Dottie blocked him, again. “For the love of -- what in the world do you want, Dottie?”

For once, she seemed unsure of what to say. Marvin softened, but only slightly. Something crossed her facial expression, but she managed to find her composure and met his eyes. “You still have  _ all _ your hair. And so do I. So does Booker, and a couple other people who I know also think the water tastes funny.”

“Is this a joke, to you? If you want to make empirical observations, why don’t you tell them to the army, who are using us like lab rats?”

“I think it means that we’re different. It occurred to me, when Booker was talking, there. He said he thinks that our bodies are being manipulated from the inside, to respond differently to the nuclear fallout.”

Marvin closed his mouth and slowly exhaled through his nose. “Dottie, you can’t be sure. And even so -- what does it even matter? What are you going to do about it?”

“Dammit, Marvin!” she hissed, and even went so far as to ball up her fists and stomp her foot. “It matters because there isn’t a whole helluva lot that does these days, or did you not notice? We’re stuck in here, without our families, without TV or movies or telephones or...or even a class schedule! Some of us can’t just sit around waiting to die.” She cast her eyes to the floor. “I thought you, of all people, would understand. You just put an entire wall of books back into their proper places, for no reason.”

His eyes widened gradually as she spoke. This was a side of Dottie he’d never seen, before. “Most of us still have our friends, though. Don’t you hang out with Helen and them?”

Dottie scoffed. “I’ve known those girls since we were toddlers; it doesn’t really mean we’re friends.” She cast a sly, side look at Marvin. “Didn’t you notice none of them were in any of our advanced math or science classes?” She idly fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. “We don’t exactly have a lot of similar interests, these days.”

Marvin blinked. He’d mostly reconnected with Rhonda and Lucas, but between the three of them they had at least shared some classes. It finally dawned on him that Dottie, herself, was in nearly every one of his classes. Well, or had been. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“I wanted to go to college. So badly! I wanted to get away from those girls for good, finally meet other people who didn’t know who my friends were, who would want to hang out with me because I had the same interests. All that’s gone, though. There won’t be college for anyone, now.” Dottie trailed off. When she continued speaking, she had totally changed the subject. “I keep paying attention because I don’t trust those army shitheads, and if they figure out some of us aren’t turning into zombies, I’m worried they’ll take advantage of us.”

He didn’t know what to say. All he could do was awkwardly shift his weight, hold the book against his chest, and nod.

“Mr. Berkshire recommended I look at CIT. Check out their robotics program. It sounded amazing. The things they were developing -- rumours of synthetic humans, can you imagine? -- he was going to write me a reference letter.” She stopped talking.

Marvin took a breath. He couldn’t help but feel very sympathetic towards Dottie. “I don’t know what to say, Dottie. I’m really sorry.” He paused. “You would have been fantastic at CIT.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, really. You were easily one of Mr. Berkshire’s top students. You always handed in at least two pages extra with all the homework.” Marvin shrugged. “I could never figure out how you had the extra time.”

Dottie laughed. “Marv, I used to have to listen to Helen spew her stupid girly garbage over the phone for hours at a time. I did trig to keep myself sane.”

The conversation petered out. Marvin shifted, again. He wagged the book and grimaced. “I better get this returned and head to the kitchen. I’m helping with dinner.”

“What, again? Didn’t you cook breakfast, and lunch?”

Marvin nodded, then shrugged. “There’s more than a few people who can’t stand handling the food, anymore, and some that stopped showing up. Cooking keeps me sane.”

He didn’t wait for her response. Marvin stepped around Dottie and strode towards the physics shelves. He secretly hoped Cynthia would have finished with Donald by the time he got there.

The image that his mind summoned with response to “finished” made him feel ill.

Cursing himself, he thought about simply ditching the book and putting it away later, or the following day, or simply never. He took it as a sign that conveniently, he found the appropriate shelf. Marvin dutifully followed the numbers down the shelf. Finally, he came to the correct range of numbers for the label on the spine. There had been zero sign of Cynthia, nor Donald. Suddenly feeling anxious to get the job over with, he crammed the book into its spot, and thought he heard the tomes sob in response. He recoiled his hand immediately.

Soft murmuring followed the sobbing. He felt stupid for not realizing that there were people nearby, and that the books themselves weren’t crying. He was about to make a full retreat and leave whoever it was to their grief, when his body betrayed him as it heard the sound of _that_ _voice_.

“But he won’t talk to anyone, now. Not even me. I’ve tried to tell him that you took the blame for him talking to those other survivors, outside, and it’s like he can’t even hear me. He just stares.”

“I’m sure he’s just depressed, Cyn. We’re all feeling kind of lousy these days,” Donald was cooing.

“Not like that,” she hiccupped. “He’s completely out of it. He isn’t eating. He stays up past when I go to bed -- I don’t even know if he’s sleeping. And I’m so surprised they didn’t shoot you!”

“Their mission is more important than disposing a pain in the ass like me. And I would have gladly died if it was going to save my cousin.”

“I wish he would say  _ something _ . I wish...I wish anything was like before.” Cynthia succumbed to a series of blubbering sobs.

“We all do, we all do.”

Marvin exhaled the breath he was holding. He didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. As silently as possible, he crept out from between the shelves and made his way out of the library.

He joined up with the dinner prep crew and found he was heady and distracted. Hurley posted him on measurement prep, which he executed mechanically. He couldn’t get Dottie out of his mind, and not in the way that Cynthia used to take up his mental space. He’d always regarded her as a snob, with her rich friends, who never missed an opportunity to pick on him and his own friends. It had never occurred to him to ever consider why she always seemed to have a sharp comment directed at him.

_ Well, I’m not going to forgive her, even if I do feel a bit sorry for her, now. _

He continued to ruminate on Booker’s hypothesis, and Dottie’s own observations. Marvin glanced around at his colleagues, working quietly on their stations, and couldn’t help but look at their hair. Dottie was right -- many of them were experiencing hair thinning and loss. At least a couple of them were missing their eyebrows. How had he not seen that, before?

He looked back to the portions of dry rice he had measured out and picked up a stray grain that had fallen onto the counter. What was that other thing Dottie had said? Something like, “some of us aren’t turning into zombies.”

_ Zombies? _

Marvin poked at his dinner. He typically had a moderate appetite, but by the end of the day, he simply wasn’t feeling hungry. He’d hardly had any time to process what he overheard in the library between Donald and Cynthia while his mind annoyingly had fixated on the discussion with Booker and Dottie’s follow up.

Dottie.

Why was he thinking about her so much, all of a sudden?

He took a mouthful of rice and chewed. He looked around to casually study the faces around him. Sure enough, he noticed that several of the students who still regularly attended meals were experiencing thinning hair, and more than a few had blotchy red patches developing on their skin. Marvin swallowed. He tried his best to very cooly look over at Rhonda, sitting at the other end of the table. She and Lucas were holding hands, their heads close in an intimate conversation. He realized she’d stopped putting her hair up in a ponytail, but it wasn’t immediately obvious that her hair was thinning.

_ Well. I probably wouldn’t even really have noticed she’d gone completely bald, really. I’ve been a terrible friend. _ Habit caused him to locate Cynthia amongst the tables. She was still sitting with the senior band students, even while trombone guy was absent.

Marvin stood up and stashed his tray. He passed Hurley on his way out and shrugged apologetically. “I’m too tired to clean up a full meal for the third time, today. I’ll help with breakfast in the morning.”

“Hmmph. Well, seems fair,” Hurley grunted.

Marvin initially made to head directly for his cot, but passed the hallway that led to the library and turned on his heel, making his Chucks squeak on the linoleum. He was surprised to find it completely unsupervised, and also unlocked. Whoever had been posted there must have gone to eat and forgot to lock the door...or return.

He wandered the shelves relatively aimlessly. He wanted something, anything to read, that was fictional, but not completely superficial. Marvin passed the shelves that used to house the comic books and headed through the horror books, past the mystery novels, and found himself in the thick of science fiction.

He smiled to himself as he pulled out the first book in his favourite space outlaw series, “THEODORE CRUMLIN: GALACTIC BOUNTY HUNTER.” He turned the book over and read the summary on the back cover:

_ IT’S THE WILD, WILD WEST...OF THE FUTURE! _

_ Theodore Crumlin is a space farmer down on his luck and down on his life. He made the bold move to relocate from Earth to Mars, enticed by the promise of steady work and income. Nearly to the point of his first harvest, Theodore found his cucumber farm on the far side of Mars under the attack of bandits, who stole his crops and torched his equipment. No insurance and no savings, drinking his last dollar, he finds himself reading a faded poster attached to the wall next to the bathroom. One thing led to another, and Theodore was suddenly on track to becoming one of the most notorious bounty hunters of the galaxy! _

Marvin recalled the Theodore Crumlin poster he used to have hung up over his desk in his room, back at the apartment. He sighed, feeling bittersweet, and all those other small pangs that came up whenever he remembered something from before. He wandered over to the “Reading Area,” picked a beanbag chair, and settled himself down. His eyes flicked up and around at the different postings in the small spot, newly established for that school year to try and encourage students to spend more time reading. He chuckled out loud at the poster depicting the Silver Shroud, holding a book instead of his trademark pistol, and a cheesy phrase that said “Reading time helps me fight crime!”

He wondered idly if beanbag chairs and footstools did, in fact, cause more people to read in the library. Marvin typically did most of his reading off campus. Did anyone ever actually read  _ in _ the library?

Well, maybe these days, they did. The library was just as busy as the daily pick-up dodgeball games amongst the students who hadn’t lost all hope.  _ The zombies _ , his mind had corrected for him before he realized it was doing so.

Marvin exhaled and rubbed his eyes.  _ What a weird thing to call them! They were still people _ . He might have softened up toward Dottie a bit, but she could still be harsh. He yawned, turned off his lantern, and started reading by the dim white glow of the emergency bulbs.

He woke suddenly, jerking himself upright, sending the paperback to tumble off his lap and onto the unlit floor. What had he been dreaming about? Anything? Marvin yawned. His face felt puffy. He idly rubbed a cheek with one hand while reaching for his book with the other. He clicked the lantern on, returned the book to its shelf, and made his way through the dark and silent library to its main doors. The clock on the wall behind the former check-out desk showed 1:50. He yawned again, looking forward to his cot. Even if it wasn’t close to comfortable, at least he could stretch out.

He gripped the steel handle on one of the double doors and pulled. The door swung open smoothly, and Marvin stepped into the empty hallway. There was some odd lighting spilling into the junction of the hallway. He turned, and paused, a soft delight filling his entire body.

Moonlight. The sky was clear, and a full moon was shining through the classroom windows, spilling into the hallway. When was the last time he saw any sort of natural light?

It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in months.

His cot completely forgotten, Marvin advanced through the nearest open classroom and blissfully drew himself up to the windows. Sure enough, despite the silvery mystique of the moonlight, he could see everything as clear as crystal. Empty schoolbuses. Military vehicles. The metal barriers. The structure of the monorail track, across the road, shockingly broken in places his memory recalled it being new and smooth.

The overhang that stretched out over the concrete in front of the main doors impeded the wonderful view. Marvin found himself dashing up the stairs to a different classroom for a better perspective, and he was not disappointed. The sky was full of stars, a vision he had never really seen, having lived in an artificially-lit town all of his life. He allowed his eyes to drift slowly over everything, drinking in the new world, steeping himself in the majestic, yet melancholy wonder of it all. He could see the ruined Red Rocket station, its distinct shade of red standing out against the pavement all around it, with all its lights off. Wrecked and abandoned cars littering the roadscape; the road itself torn into pieces, no doubt from the massive earthquake all those months ago.

He had to remind himself to breathe. It was so beautiful, and so still. He was charmed and chilled in equal parts. The world didn’t seem to have noticed that civilization had ceased to exist; it looked as though it was simply waiting for everyone to come back and resume life as normal.

Wait. There  _ was _ movement in the road, below. Marvin’s eyes settled onto what appeared to be a humanoid figure, simply standing and swaying near the school’s flagpole, which was between the main entrance and the roadway. He furrowed his brow, finding quite a bit familiar with what he saw: the Super Duper Mart smock, the posture leaning to one side. What remained of the figure’s hair was long and wavy.

Recognition caused Marvin to slam himself against the window. “MOM!” he shrieked. He pounded on the window in an attempt to get her attention. The figure remained unmoving, simply standing by the flagpole, staring towards the main doors. Marvin turned and sprung for the classroom door, tripping over desks and chairs in his urgency, flinging himself down the stairs and through the hallways. He didn’t bother trying to exit through the main doors, knowing it had long since been barricaded. Instead, he threaded himself past the cafeteria and the janitorial closet, the old faculty lounge, and out the service exit that deposited him near the overflowing trash dumpsters.

The outside air felt cool and thin. Marvin was nearly instantly light headed. He closed his eyes and shook off the slight dizziness, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth to steady himself.

_ Mom _ .

Marvin hurried past the side of the building, weaved between the parked vehicles, and advanced on his mom. He had reached out his hands and nearly had his arms around her, when two panicked voices barked from behind him.

“Donner! What do you think you’re doing?!” belted Bradshawe.

“Marvin, stop!” cried Rhonda.

Marvin made no move to answer nor acknowledge the people behind him. “Mom?” he said gently, placing his hands onto her upper arms. Her clothing, skin, hair, everything was ragged and dirty. Several bald spots were visible on her skull. Her shoes -- high-top Chucks sneakers in the same colour as Marvin’s own pair -- were untied and appeared torn on the side. She still wore her nametag, a rectangular piece of mint green plastic with the Super Duper Mart logo and her name, “LILY,” etched in white. He couldn’t help but run his thumb over the nametag, creating a clean smear in the grime that had accumulated on it.

What bothered him more than her appearance, though, was that she didn’t react in any way to his voice or presence. “Mom!” he called again, a little more emphatically.

Lily made a throaty, gargling noise, and continued to stare past her own son.

“Mom, look at me! It’s Marvin!”

A hand on his upper arm nearly startled him out of his wits. “Marv, you can’t be out here, it’s dangerous,” Rhonda said quietly.

“I don’t care,” Marvin spluttered. Overcome with emotion, he had begun to cry.

“Donner, get your ass back inside  _ now _ ,” bellowed Bradshawe from behind him. Marvin thought he detected more than a hint of panic in the soldier’s voice.

“Mom, it’s me, I’m okay,” Marvin continued to try to summon his mom’s attention. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “I’m so glad to see you.” Her body felt frail and very thin, and it was then while holding her in his embrace that he realized her clothing was cold and damp. How long had she been standing out there in the open? 

“Donner!”

Marvin continued to ignore Bradshawe. Rhonda turned and hissed at the soldier to be quiet. His body shook as he sobbed into her shoulder. She smelled like a load of laundry that had been left in the washer for too long before being put into the dryer, mixed with smells of dirt and rot. A hand was rubbing his back; he assumed it to be Rhonda’s.

In his heart, he knew his mom was gone. She was standing there, in withered flesh and thousand-yard stare, but something had destroyed her presence of mind. Perhaps by some ancient instinct, some last impulse had brought her to the school.

Marvin didn’t care. He held her tight and simply continued to cry. “I love you,” he whispered between sobs. “I miss you.”

Some soft sniffling could be heard from behind him. Rhonda was crying, too. Heavy footsteps were crunching on the pavement behind them.

“Donner, I swear, we need to get back inside immediately, or it’s all our hides.”

“It’s his mom,” Rhonda replied for him, sounding firm.

Bradshawe caught his breath. Marvin’s sobs had slowed, but his body continued to tremble, and cling to Lily. Bradshawe cleared his throat. “Ma’am? Ma’am, can you hear me?”

Lily did not reply. She shifted, slightly, but continued to stare off and away from the three people on and around her. Bradshawe tried again.

“Ma’am, if you’ve come for your son, I’m sorry -- he’s part of a government project and must remain in the facility. Do you understand?”

Still no response. Marvin sniffed wetly. He straighted and released his hold on his mother, swabbing his nose with his own worn sleeve. He fidgeted clumsily with her nametag pin, ultimately unable to work the mechanism and ended up tearing it from the cheap fabric of her smock. “Let’s just go back inside,” he murmured, tucking the pin into his pocket.

“Marvin, are --” Rhonda interrupted herself with a shriek as Lily suddenly growled and ran with surprising speed towards a small shadow that darted towards one of the empty school buses. All three watched in confused awe as Lily, who had previously seemed oblivious to everything, pounced onto a rat, catching it in her bare hands. Marvin flinched, feeling instantly nauseous, as he watched her take the rat’s head in her left hand and snap its tiny neck. Lily growled again, sounding satisfied, and dropped the rat to the ground, resuming her unmoving posture and stance.

There was a slight tug on his sleeve. “Come on, Marv. Let’s go back inside. Come on,” Rhonda mumbled.

When he spoke, he found his voice was hoarse and raspy. “It’s so weird, Rhonda. It’s so fucked up. What happened to her? What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know, Marv. It’s okay. Let’s go inside.”

Marvin hesitated another moment. He couldn’t stand to see his mother that way, behaving as though he didn’t exist, and yet, knowing she had lived, that something inside of her had compelled her to come  _ there _ , of all places…

Rhonda jumped at the sound of footsteps on the roadway. There was a sound of male voices as well. Hurley took a hold of both teenagers by their sleeves and yanked them back towards the building. “Inside,” he said gruffly.

Marvin stumbled and regained his balance in time to see his mother snap out of her daze once more, swing around snarling, and dash off towards the sounds. “No!” he screamed. Someone’s hand was on his collar, restricting his ability to follow her. There were startled shouts from the road, but a military vehicle blocked the view. An unearthly, guttural scream could be heard, followed by more startled profanity and the sound of gunfire.

“GET. INSIDE. RIGHT. NOW!” Bradshawe violently pulled Marvin by the collar with his left hand, Rhonda by the wrist with his right, and shuttled them towards the door near the dumpsters. More guttural screams were joining the clatter of sounds from the road. Marvin pulled free of Bradshawe’s grip and tore away for the doorway, ignoring the cries behind him and making a beeline through the dark hallways towards the stairs. He ran into the classroom he’d been standing in before, which gave him a better view of the scene that had developed outside.

What he saw was nothing less than very confusing. It was a cluster of decrepit survivors, though it appeared that they were fighting each other. The people in the middle were shouting and firing off rifles and pistols, shoving off the advances of the others who were screaming in the same manner that Lily had been, swinging and clawing. Marvin watched, scarcely able to breathe, as the two similar looking, yet behaviourally-distinct groups defended themselves against one another. His eyes focussed on Lily. He knew he should likely not watch her, for his own sanity, but couldn’t make himself look away. She pounced, knocking down the nearest armed survivor, clawing at his body with her hands as though she meant to rip him apart. Marvin pressed himself against the glass, his eyes widened in horror. Another of the armed survivors had seen it, screamed, then lifted his gun and smashed its stock against the side of Lily’s head. She reeled from the impact, before crumpling onto her intended victim. The man she had been attacking hastily pushed her off of him, scrambled to his feet, and simply started running down the street. Startled, his companions fought off the other deranged attackers, and followed suit.

Marvin stared at his mother’s limp body for some time. He was frozen in his fear that he’d just watched her die, and all he’d done was stand there and let it happen. He desperately wanted her to move, to give him some sign that she hadn’t in fact expired, while remaining unable to leave the spot and investigate for himself.

“Donner! You’ve got some explaining to do!” grumbled Maple from the doorway. Marvin refused to move, and continued to stare out the window. A breeze picked up, blowing some debris over Lily’s body, stirring up her hair. Maple strode up behind him, grasped Marvin by the elbow, and forcibly pulled him around and off the window. “You have exactly ten seconds,” Maple threatened, keeping his firm grip on Marvin’s arm.

Marvin swallowed, finding his throat strangely dry, but began to speak. He decided to start from when he woke up in the library, to noticing the moonlight, and detailing everything that had happened after that. His voice broke and he had to wipe away a few tears as he described holding his mother, to have her snatch herself away in pursuit of a passing rat that she killed without any real reason as to why.

“And now, she’s...she’s…?!” Marvin gestured towards the window and trailed off as he looked out to the road and saw it had been completely deserted. He ripped his arm out of Maple’s grasp, feeling it pinch in the process, but didn’t care. He searched the road up and down as far as he could see it in all directions: sure enough, his mother had simply vanished once more. “No,” he breathed.

“Donner, while your actions are mostly understandable, they were reckless, irresponsible, and could have resulted in the injury or death of multiple essential persons -- which includes you,” Maple prattled off. He continued to ramble on about the foolishness of rushing outside, how it could have incited several other students to do the same, how it’s paramount that he set an example…

Marvin continued to gaze out the window at the spot he’d last seen his mom. Clouds had begun to gather in the sky, once more, dampening the moonlight. His heart was hurting and hollow. Belatedly, he realized Maple had stopped talking. He turned, nodded his head, muttered an apology, and said he was going to bed. Maple glowered at him but made no move to stop him. Marvin had a feeling the topic wasn’t going to be completely dropped, but he didn’t care. He all but collapsed onto his cot, covered his head with his arms, and sobbed himself to a poor and restless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Marvin could hear the other students whispering about him; clearly the news about what had happened the night before had already spread like a weed. He kept his eyes shut and pretended to sleep, waiting for them to all just go away. Hurley didn’t even try to summon him to help with breakfast prep. After what felt like forever, the room cleared out. Marvin kept to his cot and dozed off and on.

He forced himself up by the early afternoon, but felt neither hungry nor motivated to seek out other people. He dragged his feet to the window and desperately looked out at the scene below, but it had begun to rain and it was impossible to see much of anything.  _ At least she’s still alive; if you can call being...like that ‘living.’ _

_ “Zombies _ ,” Dottie’s voice in his head helpfully offered.

“Shut the fuck up,” he viciously growled to himself.

There was a startled shuffle from behind. “Oh, I-I...didn’t say anything,” murmured Archie. Marvin’s shoulders fell but he didn’t turn to look at his younger friend. Archie drew up next to him, a can of water thrust out before him. “I thought you’d maybe be thirsty.”

“Not now, Archie.”

Archie ignored him. “Rhonda told me, that you saw your mom.”

Marvin frowned and refused to reply. Why couldn’t the kid get a hint?

“She saw you go outside, running faster than she’d ever seen you, wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you all had some big fight, but she still cares about you. I can tell.”

“Can you go away?”

“Everyone’s downstairs, we’re playing cards. We’ll deal you in. You should come down.”

Marvin finally turned and glared at Archie. “I don’t want to. Why can’t you, or anyone, just leave me the hell alone right now?”

Archie recoiled. He pushed the can of water onto the sill. “I’m just trying to help. You know that all the rest of us miss our families, too, right?”

By reflex, Marvin pulled out his mom’s name tag and rotated it in his fingers, over and over. “I don’t know which is worse: having assumed she was dead, or seeing her physically still alive but otherwise dead.” His eyes drifted around the landscape, grey and sullen as his mood. “You’re all lucky, thinking your families died or just left you.”

“Lucky? Oh, shut up.” Archie pushed Marvin by the arm. “Stop thinking about just yourself, for once. There’s a bunch of us, downstairs, who are alive and care about you right now. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Marvin brooded. He wasn’t about to let some sophomore lecture him about how he should and shouldn’t feel. Archie was undaunted.

“You need to come downstairs, because Rhonda needs to know you’re okay, and you know what, I think Dottie does, too. Start thinking about other people.”

Marvin exhaled slowly through his nostrils. He closed his hand around his mom’s name tag. He wanted to sneer something like, ‘ _ But when have other people thought about me? _ ’ but decided to keep it to himself. He nodded, picked up the can of water, and stood up from the window.

For the days and weeks that followed, Marvin forced himself to spend nearly all of his free hours in the presence of his friends. It seemed to comfort them, though it caused him to feel worse. He couldn’t stop thinking about his mom, or rather what she had become, and he couldn’t talk to anyone about it, either. He resented Archie’s words and at the same time, worried that maybe they were truer than he hoped. Did others think the same, that he only ever thought about himself?

What, exactly, could he do about it?

And was it really so bad? The entire world had been bombed to death. The future was no longer as bright as it had been advertised. If any of them were going to live, they  _ had _ to think about themselves.

Marvin found he didn’t have to say much to anyone for them to be happy with him, which was just as well. It was merely something else for him to brood about. Did anyone care about how he really felt?

Did it matter? Did feelings matter? The world had ended, after all.

Marvin grunted as he was elbowed in the ribs. He turned to give Lucas a glare. Lucas was absolutely undaunted.

“It’s your turn. You’ve been staring at your cards for five minutes.”

“Huh? Oh. Uh...pass.”

“Marvin, not making a move? Big surprise,” teased Lenny as he tossed his next card down. Suddenly, Cynthia appeared next to their card circle, holding red and pink pieces of heart-shaped paper.

“Hey you guys, listen up! The soldiers said we could have a Valentine’s dance -- because we missed Halloween, and Christmas, you know, other fun times -- and everyone should come.” She handed out the little paper cards. Hand written on one side was:

_ Valentine’s Day dance! _

_ Theme: SECRET ADMIRER _

_ Make a mask and let’s _

_ boogie the night away! _

Cynthia turned and addressed Rhonda, directly. “A bunch of us girls are going to gather up what makeup and things we have, do each other’s hair.” There was a heaviness to the way she said ‘hair.’ “But by-golly it’ll be some old fashioned fun! Donald’s going to talk to the tree guy --”

“You mean, ‘Maple’?” Lucas cut in. Cynthia paid the interruption no mind.

“-- to see about letting us have some Nuka Colas and fruit punch powder to make a yummy cocktail for the punch bowl, and some extra Fancy Lads…”

“But what are you doing for music?” Rhonda asked. “It’s not like we can just hook up some jukebox, we don’t have one.”

“We do!” grinned Cynthia. “There’s one in the drama room! We just need to bring it in here.”

“Ah…” Lucas began, awkwardly. “The drama room is completely caved in. It’s been defunct since the earthquake.”

“It is?” Cynthia asked, sounding sincere. She rubbed the back of her head, dislodging at least a few strands of hair. She twiddled her fingers to release them to the floor without even glancing at them. “We can’t get it?”

“Even if we could dig it out, it’s probably smashed to pieces.”

Cynthia was completely crestfallen. “Wh...why didn’t anyone say that, before? This whole time...I thought…” Her voice hitched. The rest of the hand made invitations trembled in her hand.

Rhonda exchanged a look with Lucas. “It’s okay, Cyn. We’ll figure something out.”

Cynthia snorted. She wiped tears off her face with the back of her hand. “Oh, shut up. Everyone here treats me like I’m stupid, as if it’s a joke. They let me make all these cards and all these plans, and --”

“Cynthia, it’s really okay,” Marvin found himself saying before he could stop himself. “Why don’t we get some people together from the music program? I’m sure there’s enough of us who would rather just play music than dance, anyways.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Dancing isn’t my thing, I mean. It’s more fun for me to watch other people,” he added hastily. 

Cynthia snorted again and rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “Y-you think so?”

“Definitely. We’d just need a saxophone or two, a bass, some drums, probably a clarinet --”

“Ooh! And a trombone!” she squealed, her earlier anguish completely forgotten. “Martin, that’s brilliant! I’ll go ask around!” With that, she was off.

Everyone was looking at him to provide some kind of response. He just shrugged and turned back to the card game. “Whose turn is it?”

“I don’t want to play anymore, right now,” Rhonda muttered. She tossed her cards face up into the center and stood up. “I might have some usable makeup left in my locker. Anyone want to come for a walk?”

Lucas tossed his cards as well. “Sure, I’ll come.” He stood up, dusted off the back of his pants, and reached for Rhonda’s hand.

“Me, too,” Marvin suddenly blurted, jumping to his feet, causing everyone else to startle. “I haven’t touched my trumpet in months, now that I think about it.”

“Cynthia didn’t actually ask you to be in the band, you realize that, right?” Lenny offered cautiously.

“I know. I don’t care about that.” Marvin paused, carefully making eye contact with everyone around him. “Honest.”

“I could use a stretch,” Archie chimed. 

Lenny shrugged. “See you guys later, then.” He re-gathered the cards and began to shuffle them.

The group exited the gym and loosely followed Rhonda and Marvin. He couldn’t help but wonder to himself that he’d forgotten his lock combination after all those months. It occurred to him that he hadn’t even returned to his locker once since the bombs fell. They weaved through the main floor until they found the stairwell to the basement and began to descend.

“Where was your locker, Marv?” Archie inquired cheerfully.

“Basement floor, near the teacher’s lounge. I think most the juniors had lockers assigned in that area.”

“They did,” corroborated Lucas. “Mine was right...here,” he knocked on a locker as he passed, showing no other interest in its contents. “Marv and Rhonda were around the corner,” he pointed.

Despite months of neglect, being tucked into a part of the school they still didn’t use, the hallway appeared almost unchanged, save the lack of fluorescent lighting. The teacher’s lounge, and the junior locker area, was the only part of the entire facility that was on a lower level. Marvin wondered if anyone had even thought to check that this area had been caved in during the earthquakes, but clearly it had not. Rows of skinny steel compartments, several still bearing combination locks, stood cold and silent in the shadows cast by the emergency bulbs. Without meaning to, they all paused at the curve in the hallway, simply taking in the eerie sight. It was the only hallway that had been missed in the blitz for pulling down all the Halloween decor; banners of paper jack o’lanterns, black bats, skulls, and which hats hung completely unshaken by cause or calamity.

“So...no one’s been down here for a while, huh?” Archie vocalized for all of them.

“I guess not. What’s that smell?” Marvin scrunched his nose, suddenly aware of a foul odour in the air.

The other three timidly sniffed. Lucas shrugged and shook his head. Rhonda sniffed again.

“I don’t smell anything,” she replied.

“God, really?” Marvin covered his face with his arm in an attempt to muffle the stench. “It seems to be getting worse as we get closer to the teacher’s lounge.”

“I smell something kinda bad...maybe they didn’t empty the fridge or something?” Archie offered.

Rhonda stood on her tip-toes and pressed her face against the narrow, rectangular window panel in the steel door. “It’s super dark in there, can’t see a thing.” She turned the door handle and pushed on the door, her small weight nearly bouncing off of it. “Whoa. Something’s in front of it.”

“Here, I’ll help.” Lucas gently shooed Rhonda aside and pushed against the door with his own lean shoulder. The door cracked open but still didn’t really move. All three boys positioned themselves against the door. “On three,” instructed Lucas.

They heaved. The door finally opened wide enough to allow a person to pass through the space. Marvin heaved, himself, when the smell fully encapsulated him and infiltrated his senses. He firmly pinched his nose and covered his mouth with his other sleeve and forced himself to breathe very slowly. He blinked against the darkness, trying as hard as he could to make anything out in the room.

“What was in that fridge?” Rhonda gagged.

“Can any of you see anything?” Archie called out.

“Here’s what the problem is, there’s a bunch of heavy blankets against the door, or something,” Lucas declared. He grunted with some exertion, causing muffled fabric friction sounds to accompany his effort. “Someone push the door, now.”

Archie volunteered, having glanced at Marvin and the latter’s use of both hands as a makeshift gas mask. The door knocked against the inside wall with a faint thud. They all stood staring into the dark room, waiting for their eyes to adjust.

“Did the lounge not have any windows?” Rhonda murmured.

“Or emergency lights, it would seem,” Lucas added.

Suddenly, a familiar sound filled their ears, one they each knew immediately but hadn’t heard in quite some time: the click and whirr of a refrigerator compressor turning on. They all turned towards the sound. Like a moth drawn to a flame, Archie picked his way through the shadows towards the appliance, groped around for the handle, and pulled the fridge open.

As expected, there were a few selections of very expired produce items and dairy products, along with more than a few bottles of beer, Nuka Cola, and water. There was, of course, a light, shining as bright as day from the inner plastic frame. Archie whooped in delight and released the door, which swung wide and free, causing the light to wash over the dark room. “Anyone want a cold Nuke?” he asked.

Rhonda screamed in reply, before clasping her hands over her mouth. Lucas jumped at the sound, as did Marvin -- who immediately regret the reactionary drop of his arms from his face. Archie turned around, bracing the fridge door open, and looked confused until his face became completely silhouetted by the light behind him.

The fridge, in all its compressor-running, light-shining glory, illuminated a ghastly scene. Marvin could hardly count the bodies; so many of them had decomposed beyond bodily recognition. A number of them seemed to be piled up in groups of twos and threes; there were only a few singles, and only one gun.

Rhonda continued to scream. Lucas slowly backed her out of the room, back into the dark hallway, mumbling small comforts and other such nonsense. Marvin followed behind. Moments later, Archie appeared, pulling the lounge door shut behind him as well.

Rhonda had dissolved into sobs, her withered frame trembling against Lucas’ body. Marvin could still hardly breathe without wanting to vomit. Archie’s face was clouded; Marvin could tell there was a change, even in the drastically different lighting of the hallway.

“They’re all dead. They’ve been dead since...since…” Archie couldn’t finish his thought.

“Probably since the day the bombs fell, or shortly thereafter,” Marvin finished for him, with a very dry throat.

“Why? How?” Rhonda warbled.

“It seems they offed themselves,” Lucas offered quietly.

“No way the army didn’t know about this; they wouldn’t have left all those bodies in there. No way.” Archie was holding himself and shaking.

Marvin shrugged. “They probably just don’t know about it. This isn’t a part of the school most of the students would have wanted to use. I guess we all forgot about it.” 

“Should we tell them?” Rhonda’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

“I think so. I know Lucas would just say ‘no,’” Marvin smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“We should definitely tell them. They know how to clean all that up so they don’t get sick. Right?” Archie’s attempt at confidence was poor.

“We can talk about it,” Lucas butt in. “First, let’s get what you wanted out of your locker. ...actually, let’s get everything you would ever want again, out of your locker, and never ever come back down here.”

Marvin stood and watched Rhonda and Lucas wander towards her locker, his mind churning over the scene they observed in the teacher’s lounge. He’d seen tragedies of a similar type and scale on the news several times, especially as rationing became stricter, and people were literally killing each other over food, but something about it being their teachers...why would they have done that? Were they fighting over who should survive? Did they all decide not to let the military be the ones to take them out?

What happened?

Did it even matter?

Archie nudged him. “Hey, aren’t you getting something from your locker, too?”

“Hm? Oh, right. Yeah.” Marvin wandered towards his locker and began to spin the dial on his combination lock. As it turned out, his combination came back to his mind as easily as if it had been any other regular school day. No one spoke as Rhonda quietly disassembled the interior of her locker, while Marvin quickly and easily extracted his trumpet.

“You’re a pretty tidy guy, huh?” Archie smirked, nodding at the interior of Marvin’s locker. It contained nothing more than a light jacket hung on one of the hooks, a few magnets on the inside of the door, and the shelf compartment housed a wooly toque and a couple of comic books.

Lucas, who overheard, chuckled. “His locker, sure. But did you ever see the inside of his backpack? Now that’s a rabbit hole of adventure.”

“Ha, ha,” Marvin smiled in spite of himself. “It wasn’t exactly convenient to have to come back to my locker after every class, so this year I just got used to carrying most of what I needed with me all the time.”

“You really just going to play in the band during the dance?” Archie asked, standing on his tip-toes and peering into the blackness at the back of the shelf compartment.

“Oh, yeah. I wasn’t kidding when I said I sort of hate those things.”

“You didn’t say you hated them,” Archie replied, his tone a thinly-veiled disappointment.

“Well...I do.”

“Oh.” Archie appeared to have blushed, slightly, but Marvin couldn’t be totally sure in the shadowed lighting. “I guess I’d hoped…”

Marvin blinked. “Hoped what?”

“Never mind. Hey, what’s that?!” Archie snatched at something at the back of the locker and produced a candy bar. He gasped in delight. “Something that’s not rotten, or old, sweaty gym clothes!”

Marvin couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ahead and eat it. You know that thing’s months and months old now, though.”

“Yeah, but so are the military rations, and something like this won’t be found with any of that stuff. We’ll share it.” Archie reverently peeled the wrapper down and broke off three pieces of the candy bar, distributing them between the three other teenagers. He raised his portion of the stale, caramel-oozing morsel up over his head in a salute. “If this candy can prove anything, it’s that you can find something sweet in the darkness, if you have faith.”

“I think you mean, if you  _ look _ , but that’s a lovely thing to say, Archie,” Rhonda grinned. “Cheers.”

They stood in the hallway a few moments longer, savoring every molecule of the old candy bar. Marvin caught Archie’s eye, who was delicately licking every trace of chocolate off his fingers, and couldn’t help but smile. Archie paused, then shyly smiled back, and shrugged.

“Do none of you hear that scratching?” Lucas asked suddenly.

“What? N--” Marvin began.

“Shh!” Rhonda interrupted him. Marvin clamped his mouth shut. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, I do. It sounds like something at the emergency exit door at the end of the hallway.”

“It’s probably just an animal or something,” Archie suggested. He began to approach the door. The scratching seemed to pause with the sound of the approaching footsteps. Archie stopped walking; sure enough, the scratching sound resumed.

“At least it doesn’t like a big animal,” Marvin offered.

“What, you think a bear would just politely knock, if it wanted in?” Lucas smirked.

“You think a bear would wander all the way into town?”

“Why wouldn’t it? I’d suspect that the whole place is empty these days, or what would pass for empty, compared to before the bombs.”

“You have a point.” Marvin, along with Rhonda and Lucas, had assembled by the door with Archie. The EXIT sign cast a dark, crimson glow onto them, making them appear almost like strange alien creatures from a science fiction movie. The scratching continued.

Archie clasped his hands together. “What if it’s a cat, though, or a rabbit? Maybe it’s hurt, and it can’t get up the stairs to get out!” 

Lucas turned to give Marvin a look, who shrugged. Marvin could hardly see his friend’s eyes with the shadow cast by his sunken skin and the strange colour of the light. He looked to Rhonda, who shrugged.

“Here, we’ll stand behind you, in case it tries to run in. That way we can catch it,” she suggested.

Archie nodded. “Okay, good idea. Thank you.” The teenagers shuffled themselves around. Archie reached for the door and turned the handle. The door thudded against its frame with a thud.

“Oh...turn the deadbolt,” Marvin pointed.

“What? Oh. Heh, whoops.” Archie reached for the mechanism and turned it. No one noticed the scratching had completely ceased. Before he could place his hand on the doorknob, the heavy steel door came swinging open, knocking Archie flailing backwards as it made contact with his head and shoulder. Rhonda caught him before he could land onto the floor.

“What the --” Lucas began.

There was a shrill, startled male scream from the door. A disheveled individual stood in the doorway, frozen in his shock. Suddenly, a cat darted through the door and past them, meowling. This also caused the individual to jump.

“It  _ was _ a cat,” Archie murmured. This seemed to break the intruder out of his momentary daze.

“Scratching the door? No, dumbass, that was me, but that cat had been harassing me for days.” He shook his head. “Never mind. Did Clayton send you down ‘ere to open the door?”

“Who?” Lucas asked. He had stepped protectively in front of Rhonda.

They were suddenly aware of the sound of gunfire from outside.

“Clayton -- you know what, never mind,” the intruder said again, shoving the teenagers aside. “Jesus Christ, it fucking reeks in here!” He raised his arm to cover his mouth and nose with his sleeve, mimicking the gesture Marvin had used earlier, before sticking his head out the door and barking up the stairs. “Door’s open! Let’s go!!”

Six more people appeared, one after the other, to file into the door. They were each clad in clothes in varying states of wear and decay, but what alarmed Marvin the most was that they were all openly carrying deadly weapons. The second last one stopped short at the sight of the teenagers and rasped in a voice that sounded like gravel being ground into the pavement, “who the hell are they? Where’s Clayton?”

“He’s probably upstairs. Just get up there,” answered the first intruder. “These are just the kids, they don’t matter.”

“Phew. Something die in here?” the last intruder commented as they walked past the teenagers without giving them a second glance. Archie leaned out the doorway and puked onto the concrete. Rhonda stepped out from behind Lucas and immediately began to rub the younger student’s back and murmur comforting nonsense.

“The door’s open!” someone cried from a distance. “Let’s move, let’s move!” The quiet rumble of footsteps pattering on the concrete could be heard getting louder as another group approached the students’ position. Marvin reached over and pulled Rhonda by the withered wrist and Archie by his unwashed shirt, back into the school and to the side of the door. Another half dozen or so intruders hurried through the door and nearly immediately bunched up at the sudden darkness and terrible smell. There was a slight delay as they looked around and seemed to startle in unison at the sight of the teenagers.

“We’re kids, we’re just kids!” Lucas cried, lifting his hands in the air.

“Clayton’s upstairs,” Marvin blurted. He pointed down the hall. Luckily, the sign indicating the direction of stairs was still illuminated by the generators. “That way.”

A few of the intruders exchanged looks and appeared unsure of how to proceed. The individual that had led them in shrugged. “Leave ‘em. They’re not why we’re here, anyway. Let’s get upstairs.”

There was some murmured agreement before they took off, broken boots and shoes clattering on the linoleum. “Ha, ha!” one of them laughed, pointing at the old decorations. “Happy Halloween! Ha, ha, ha!”

Marvin had no idea why that was funny.

“Jesus,” Rhonda breathed, “they looked horrible.”

The teenagers stood against the wall, listening to the sounds of gunfire and conflict from outside, the same sounds erupting from within the school, their own breathing, their own heartbeats. None of them had any idea where they should go, and no one suggested staying where they were wasn’t somehow the best place for them to be at that moment.

The fighting outside had dimmed in its intensity, but carried on. “Someone will find us in here, right?” Archie asked shyly, vocalizing Marvin’s own inner thoughts.

“Someone will,” Rhonda agreed. She didn’t specify whether she meant military, or rogue.

“Well...we should get out of here!” Lucas exclaimed. He stepped away from the wall and went to the door. He listened for a few moments. “It’s all out front, in the parking lot and probably the road. We can go out around the back, climb the steppe, and finally be free of this place!”

Archie’s jaw dropped. Marvin placed a gentle hand on the younger student’s arm and looked at Lucas. “We’re not going anywhere. Are you crazy?”

Lucas locked eyes with Marvin. “Are you kidding? We have the chance to get out from under the military’s thumb. Of course I’m not crazy.”

“What are you going to do for food?” Archie asked.

“What?”

“Food! It’s not like you can just...go to the store! And where are you going to sleep? Didn’t you see those people had guns?” This last was spoken in a hissed whisper.

“Food and guns are out there, I’d just have to look for them. It wouldn’t be that hard. In fact, I know exactly where my dad kept his key to his gun safe.” Lucas looked at Rhonda and extended his hand towards her. “Now’s our chance. We need to get out of here before someone finds us. Come on!”

Rhonda recoiled.

“What are you -- come on! Let’s finally get out of here while the military aren’t looking!”

“Dammit, Lucas! No!” Rhonda exclaimed. Lucas jumped, surprised at her outburst. “Stop it with all of that...that stupidity! You think you could’ve done better out there, on your own, after the bombs fell? Do you really think that to some extent, you do owe the fact you’re still alive to the army showing up with food and guns?”

“Rhonda, why...how can you say that? This whole time, all we talked about was getting out of here, getting out into the world, getting free!”

“No, all  _ you _ talked about was taking off from here into god knows what is out there on the outside. Did you ever actually think it through?” Her voice had become shrill and inflamed. “I’ve never shot a gun, before. I’ve never hunted or killed an animal, if they’re even safe to eat after all the radiation and dirty water they’ve been exposed to for months. Hell, I’ve never even been camping -- and suddenly you think I would just want to go live all wild and free in the woods?”

“Rhonda…” Lucas had lowered his hand but made no move to get out of the doorway.

“I mean, I never told you I hated your plan. I guess I never thought that there’d even come a time that  _ not _ living in here, in any manner, would be a real option. So I never said anything. I thought you just needed to let your imagination run free, to give yourself some reason to live. And I was just glad to be here with you.”

Marvin involuntarily clenched his fists, causing the knuckles on his trumpet case handle to turn white, and twitched. He bit his tongue and stayed out of it.

“How did you ever not think I was serious this whole time?” Lucas sounded genuinely hurt. “You thought I was just dreaming? Fantasizing? All of it? And you just weren’t going to say anything?”

“No, not all of it! I just never thought --”

Lucas interrupted Rhonda’s reply by angrily slamming his palm against the door. “What about heading east, to the water, to the coast? Living on a boat? Getting away from all this chaos, just being together? Were you just humouring me about that, too?”

“No! Lucas, please!” Rhonda pleaded. She took a step towards him. He threw up his hands and she stopped. “You’re getting all upset over something really small.”

“Really small,” he repeated. “‘Really small’. I’ll tell you, Rhonda, if you thought I considered any of those thoughts and ideas as ‘small,’ you were really, really wrong about me.” Lucas paused. “That actually makes me really sad.”

“Lucas, come back inside, man. I think you’re taking a lot of this all the wrong way,” Marvin said gently. “We’re all a little jacked up with the excitement; we need to slow down and think more clearly about --”

“Shut up, Marvin! You’re so...so white bread, so two-dimensional! All you wanted to do was your homework, you were never around for anything fun.”

Marvin’s face clouded. “Don’t you dare try to toss that in my face, Lucas.”

“What, that you and your mom in your ugly two bedroom apartment could afford for you to just hang out? Why didn’t you just get a part time job? Or, and here’s an idea, just ask your mom for the twenty bucks for an ice cream now and then?”

“Lucas,” Rhonda breathed, “please don’t.”

Lucas ignored her. Marvin clenched his fists tighter, but refused to indulge the other student in his game.

“Lucas, come on,” Rhonda tried again, hoping to break up the staredown between her two best friends. “Come away from the door, I don’t want you hit by some stray bullet, all right?”

That seemed to get Lucas’ attention. He snapped his gaze at Rhonda, his expression pained. “Give it up, already. I have no idea what you ever said that was true.”

“Don’t be like that, you’re upset, and I understand that, but I really did want to be with you, just like we talked about!”

“Right. Like those teachers, though, you wanted to stay together until we died here. I understand, now.”

“You’re being stupid. Come inside before you really get hurt!” Marvin barked.

Lucas shook his head. “No. I’m out of here.”

“No--” Rhonda protested.

“Stop!” cried Marvin.

Lucas looked at Marvin one last time. “Remember when you told me, you thought I was going to be the one who broke her heart? Huh. Maybe you didn’t really know me, either, Marv.”

“Don’t--” Marvin began, but it was no use. Lucas gave Archie a salute and disappeared out the door. The other three students swung themselves into the doorway just in time to see Lucas’ feet scale the top step. He paused at the upper landing, ducked, looked around, and tore off for the back of the building, just as he had described.

“Lucas!” Rhonda shrieked, diving for the door. Marvin started and leapt towards her, landing an awkward tackle and roughly pinning her against the painted steel. She grunted and squirmed, and continued to scream, much to the detriment of Marvin’s hearing. “Lucas, come back, don’t do this! LUCAS!!”

“Stop! Rhonda, stop it! Settle down! He’s gone, he’s left! Rhonda!” Marvin pleaded in between her words.

Rhonda viciously leaned down and chomped down into Marvin’s arm. Marvin screamed in pain and reflexively loosened his grip. She stepped out from his hold and dashed out the door before he could react. He swung his arm in an attempt to grab her, but she was gone. 

Archie sniffed and wiped his running nose on his sleeve. “What did we do? What could we do?”

Marvin shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think was anything we could do.” He hesitated at the door, looking up the stairs to the emptiness beyond. Gunfire continued to sound, though it had slowed. He swallowed, his throat dry, searching with his eyes for any sign that his friends had decided to come back, searching his mind for the best thing to do next.

“Marvin…” Archie began, shyly. Marvin blinked, looked towards the younger student, then back up the stairs.

Maybe he should follow them. But, then what? What if he found them? Would he try to bring them back? Lucas would refuse to return. What, then? Was it worth sticking with Lucas to try and survive in the outside world? What if Lucas just took off whenever he wanted, again?

Or, what if he went after them, never to ever find them? He’d just be out on his own, alone, exposed, searching, when they’d either disappeared or simply had died, and he’d never know.

There was a loud bang from the other end of the hallway, and a sudden stinging in his ring finger. He yelped and pulled his hand off where he’d unconsciously placed it as he contemplated his next course of action. Archie yelped, too, and they both turned to the source of the sound.

It was the original intruder. He lowered what looked like a pistol and gruffly gestured towards himself. “Yer comin’ upstairs with me right now, and close that damn door behind you.” He paused. “Weren’t there four of yas?”

“Two of them ran away,” Marvin replied through his teeth. His finger hurt where the bullet had grazed it and was bleeding. He wrapped his injured hand awkwardly in the tail of his shirt.

“They just left, we don’t know where they went,” Archie rattled off. He gently pushed Marvin aside and shoved the door shut. It banged into the frame with a hollow boom. Archie turned the deadbolt and nudged Marvin forward.

Marvin was in too much physical and emotional pain to be annoyed by being pushed around by the sophomore and simply let Archie lead him back down the hall. He realized too late that his trumpet was left abandoned by the exit. 

“What  _ is _ that smell down here?” the intruder coughed, following them up the stairs, his pistol still in his hand but not pointed directly at them.

“There’s a bunch of bodies in the teacher’s lounge,” Archie replied very calmly. His tone surprised Marvin.

“Oh,” was all the intruder said. They marched on. They turned a corner and stepped over the lifeless form of Hurley, his head a disassembled mess and lying in a puddle of blood.

Marvin had assumed they were to be gathered up in the gym, but instead, they were led to the cafeteria. He looked around and thought that it looked as though most of the students were accounted for. Of course, he knew at least two of them wouldn’t be there. He and Archie were gruffly pushed onto a bench, forcing them to sit. Grober, Farleigh, and Roch -- the grumpy soldier with the growth on his nose, from all that time ago -- were the only soldiers that Marvin could see. They had their hands bound behind their backs and were seated against the wall by the door.

The intruders stood around, some of them appearing nervous, some others smoking cigarettes and avoiding eye contact. Marvin wondered why the better-armed infiltrators would be worried about a bunch of teenagers, but he didn’t bother asking. There were a few whispered conversations amongst the students, but an anxiousness hungover them all like a cloud, causing most to simply sit and wait quietly.

Running footfalls could be heard approaching the cafeteria from the hallway. A female intruder burst in, stopped just past the doorway, looked around determinedly, then found who she was looking for. “Clatyon!” she exclaimed, then strode towards the only intruder to was seated while puffing on a cigar, of all things. “The situation outside has been handled. The rest of the soldiers are dead or fled.”

Clayton grunted. He rose to his feet, tapping his cigar off onto the floor and adjusted his dirty ballcap. The room fell silent. Clayton walked slowly towards where the three soldiers sat bound by the door. “Don’t feel so good, now, does it? Bein’ told one thing, then just getting shot, instead.”

Grober growled. “You morons. You have no idea what you’re doing. That food is government property -- these  _ children _ are government property! What’s done is done, but you do not want to eat or drink any of those rations. They’re scien--,” he cleared his throat to cover up his slip. “They’ve been specially fortified to meet the nutritional needs of these growing people. Not only would it be a federal offense to steal them, you’d be causing full-scale harm to these students.”

Clayton’s back was to Marvin, making it impossible for him to see any expression. Clayton put a hand on his hip, and hummed.

“Don’t listen to him, sir!” called out a familiar voice. Heads swung towards Clyde, who remained seated on his bench. “They’ve kept us captive here since the bombs fell. Wouldn’t even let us call our parents. I don’t know what’s in the food, but none of us have died, so it can’t be all bad. And look,” he pointed directly at Booker, sitting the next table over, “some of us have kept nearly all our hair. That’s not a coincidence.”

Marvin saw Booker’s face slowly flush from pale to a deeper flush. He balled his fists, nostrils flaring, but said nothing in response. Marvin frowned in sympathy.  _ Booker must be feeling all kinds of betrayed at the moment. Clyde, you asshole. _

Clayton was fascinated by this revelation, as though he nor any of the other intruders had previously noticed the state of any of the students’ hair. He approached Booker, leaned over, and drew a filthy finger through Booker’s hair. “Well, I’ll be. This is your real hair, ain’t it?”

“Leave me alone,” Booker mumbled, though he made no move to shoo Clayton off.

“Huh. From whatever’s in your food and water, right?”

“Right,” Clyde answered. “Though, some of us have lost a lot of hair and stopped responding to most things. See?” In demonstration, Clyde stood, walked over to where Tabitha was sitting and staring off into the room, and waved his hand in front of her face. Tabitha didn’t flinch. Clyde reached over and yanked a pinch of a tuft of her remaining hair, which released freely from her scalp. Tabitha still didn’t blink. Marvin turned away, finding it particularly difficult to keep watching, having barely even had a chance to process Rhonda’s own departure. From the sounds of it, Clyde continued to snap, speak, and otherwise harass Tabitha, all to demonstrate her lack of response. 

Marvin had had enough. He turned his head and barked at Clyde. “That’s enough! Leave her alone!”

Clyde, and several others, jumped at the sudden outburst. He met Marvin’s eyes, shrugged, and resumed his seat. Clayton stepped in front of Tabitha himself, leaned over, and glared into her face. Tabitha didn’t react at all; it were as though she were molded out of wax. Clayton straightened. “Shit,” he drawled. “How do you get them to do anything, then?”

No one replied right away. Clyde seemed to take on the role of speaker. “They just follow others around. You guys made us all come in here, they just followed. Oh, but, they don’t eat or drink anything, anymore.”

“They just follow you around?” the female intruder replied. “That’s it? They don’t...snap, somehow?”

Clyde shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It all came crashing back to Marvin. His mother, Lily, behaved the same way, when he encountered her all those weeks ago. The moment something else moved, though, she was mindlessly hostile. He took a breath. Clayton turned towards the sound but couldn’t pinpoint who had made the noise. Marvin bit his tongue to keep himself from speaking.

“Just take the food, and go, okay?” Dottie spoke from the next table. She was standing and pointing towards the kitchen door. “It’s all in there. Go get what you want and get out of here. We’re nothing to you.”

There was a pause. “Fuck that,” spat the female intruder.

“Are you crazy?” cried one of the students.

Several people, student and intruder alike, started talking all at once. Five students rose and surrounded Dottie, making accusations and aggressive suggestions towards her. The intruders didn’t make a move to surround Clayton, but those who chose to speak rose their voices from where they stood.

“I’d rather keep hunting for rats and squirrels than eat any kind of canned meat that’s going to turn me into a brainless idiot!” cried one of them from somewhere behind Marvin.

“Give them your share, Dottie, don’t volunteer my food for me, what is wrong with you?” shrieked Helen.

“You’re not plannin’ on takin’ the food now, are ya, boss?” from another intruder.

Two gunshots went off, the fire illuminating the entire room twice briefly in orange-coloured lightning. “Shut up, all of you!” bellowed Clayton. He turned and glared at the small group of students surrounding, and including, Dottie. Without needing to be directed, they all resumed their seats. He grunted in satisfaction, snatched the nearest lantern, and held it up to Clyde’s face. Clyde flinched, squinted, but did not otherwise move. Clayton leered at him, looking him over very closely. “So, why ain’t you and those others brain dead, then? Or are youse not eating the same grub?”

“We are…” Clyde began, slowly.

“You seem normal enough to me.” Clayton paused, then chuckled. “Well, as normal as people look these days.” He poked Clyde in the cheek. Clyde’s sunken face made a sickeningly amusing dimple that didn’t immediately bounce back. “That’s good enough for me to take our chances.”

“Nah, no way, I ain’t touching any of that lab food.” The female intruder lifted her hands, turned, and went for the door.

“You walk outta here, Lou-Ann, and we’ll shoot you if you ever show yer face around the gang, again.”

Lou-Ann waved him off without even turning around. She stepped out the double doors and was gone. Clayton turned his attention back to the other intruders. “Anyone else got a problem?” 

Silence.

“Good. Roger, get your ass into the back and start pulling out some cases. Avery, you help him. Sandy, you go get a couple of the boys outside to come in and start carrying this shit out. Move!”

“Please!” pleaded Helen, rising to her feet. “Please, don’t do this! Don’t take our food! We’re just...we’re just  _ kids _ !”

Clayton turned to look at her, his eyebrow cocked. “Then it’s time to grow up, sweetheart.” He looked back at Clyde, who still hadn’t moved. “You, sir, were a mighty fine help.” Without further warning, he pointed his pistol at Clyde’s chest and fired. Marvin gasped, adding to the cacophony of other shrieks and cries. He nearly missed Clayton smugly muttering, “that’s for selling out your friends.”

There was a small amount of chaos. Booker flew across the room, spluttering and sobbing, trying to put pressure on the wound and uttering comforts and encouragements as Clyde blankly gaped, blinking and trembling. A few other students gathered near Clyde. A small crowd started shouting at Dottie, having surrounded her once more as she appeared to have attempted to leave during the chaos.

All of the remaining students began to rise to their feet in response to the chaos and nervous energy crackling through the room. Marvin was vaguely aware of Archie hovering near his arm. He reached over to give his friend a reassuring squeeze on the arm, but Archie clasped his hand, instead. Marvin startled but let it be. The zombies, taking a cue from the others, rose from their seats, cutting the invaders’ sight lines to the door and between each other even further. A couple of the students began to make their way towards the hallway, whether their intention to leave the room or exit the school entirely, Marvin couldn’t know.

“Boss! Boss!!” cried a new intruder’s voice that Marvin hadn’t heard. Clayton fired his pistol into the ceiling twice more.

“All of you sit your asses back down and keep them in their seats!” Clayton roared. Reluctantly, the students dropped their backsides onto their benches for a second time. Archie didn’t immediately release Marvin’s hand. Marvin awkwardly threaded his fingers out from the sophomore’s grip, offered the latter a small smile, then turned his attention back to Clayton. Clayton, seemingly satisfied, nodded at the bearer of the new voice. “Sandy, what is it?”

The new intruder, thus identified, nodded. “One o’ the boys from the homestead ran over here, says there’s been an attack. They’re holding but they need help.”

“Shit,” Clayton spat. He sighed. “All right, new strategy. Get everyone down here to take as many cases as they can carry, and we finally take off. We’ve spent too much time in this hell hole already.”

Sandy scrambled out of the cafeteria without so much as an acknowledgement. Within five minutes, a dozen or so intruders had marched into the kitchen and marched back out with one or two cases in their arms. Helen had started to cry, as did a couple of juniors that Marvin knew by sight, only.

“Oh, I see,” Clayton was drawling from the kitchen. “Yeah, that’s perfect.” There was the sound of some shuffling, then the clatter and glang of a metallic container skittering across the floor. “All right, everyone out, let’s hustle and get lost!” 

Marvin watched as two last intruders and Clayton emerged from the kitchen. “We couldn’t clear you out like we’d planned,” Clayton puffed between lighting a cigarette, “but we couldn’t very well leave it at that, either.” He turned, propped the swinging door open with one hand, and tossed his lit match back into the kitchen.

“What’s he--” Archie began.

Marvin’s eyes widened. His mind and body were overtaken by sheer horror as he finally realized what had happened. “We’d been using small gas stoves and kerosene. He’s--”

Marvin was interrupted by a sudden, all-engulfing WHOOSH as flames took hold. Several students gasped, again. Clayton disappeared out the double door to the hallway and was gone.

“What do we do?!” cried one of the female students.

“Water, we need to get some water!” Archie cried in responses. “I...where do we find some water?”

“Untie me!” barked Grober from where he sat by the door. A handful of heads turned towards his voice, but not a single person made to go and help him. The heat from the fire was permeating quickly into the seating area. Marvin’s eyes darted between the friends he knew he had left: Archie, Booker, Dottie, Lenny, and lastly, Clyde. Clyde was down for the count, or dead; Booker was hunched over him, shaking, his head down and completely ignoring anything else that was going on. Lenny sat frozen, his eyes fixed on the fire growing past the kitchen doors.

“Run!” screamed Donald. This appeared to be the only successful prompt. He, Cynthia, and two dozen other students jumped from their seats and made a break for the door. They were followed by a dozen more zombies, who wordlessly exit the room.

“I said, untie me!” repeated Grober.

Marvin stood, intending to confer with Dottie, and found Archie mimicked his every move -- and had re-attached their hands together. Marvin didn’t bother fighting it, though he vowed to address it with his friend when things were calmer. “We need to get that fire out.”

Dottie looked from him, to where Archie held his hand, and then back to Marvin. Archie, self conscious, shyly released Marvin’s hand. Marvin did his best to carry on as though it had never happened in the first place. Dottie sniffed and opened her mouth to respond, when Lenny, roused from his daydream, spoke first.

“What? Why? Let’s just let the place burn and be done with it! We should run!”

Marvin shook his head. “No. We might be struggling for food, but this place is worlds better than what I’ve seen of out...there.” He gestured towards the wall. 

“Y-yeah. I agree,” Dottie added. She looked around at the walls, and the ceiling, all eerily illuminated due to the fire in the kitchen. “Booker! Where does the water come from for the sprinkler system? Surely they must be hooked up to the emergency generators?”

Booker slowly lifted his head. The wound in Clyde’s stomach oozed slowly. Clyde’s head, poised on Booker’s shoulder, lolled heavily. Booker shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Dottie’s face showed a small range of emotions. She turned and lunged for the fire alarm switch on the wall, and flipped it.

Nothing.

Dottie shook anxiously and looked at Marvin. “We’ll keep trying different ones; something might have got damaged in the earthquakes,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. He ran to the other side of the room and another switch, and flipped it. An alarm bell began to sound somewhere else in the building. They looked up to the ceiling, expecting the sprinklers to start any moment. They did not.

“It’s useless! Let’s just run!” cried Lenny, panicked.

“Look!” pointed Archie. Another switch lay next to the kitchen door. Marvin ran towards it and pulled. Another set of bells, this time within the cafeteria, began to sound. The sprinklers remained dry.

“There must be a switch in the kitchen,” Dottie yelled over the bells.

“No one’s going in there, that’s stupid!” Marvin yelled back. He turned to try and locate another switch when he observed Archie beginning to strip his clothing off. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m going in there,” Archie bellowed, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. “I’m going to be naked here in a second; less likely to catch on fire that way.”

Marvin was simultaneously impressed at the genius idea, and embarrassed. He wrenched his eyes away from Archie’s soon to be nude form just as he was pulling down the waistband of his skivvies. He heard Archie take a huge breath and a small thump as his skin made contact with the swinging door.

Marvin held his breath, too, while he waited. Ten seconds elapsed. Fifteen. Twenty. Marvin released his breath and began to unbutton his shirt.

“What are  _ you _ doing?!” shrieked Dottie incredulously. Marvin fumbled with his buttons and noticed that while he found the heat stifling, he had not begun to sweat.

“I’m going in to --”

He was interrupted by the sound of more bells, and the sweet, relieving splutter and hiss of water shooting out of the sprinkler system. Archie burst back through the double doors with a bang and flung himself to the floor, coughing and gagging, but otherwise generally intact. Dottie ran to him, maturely ignoring the fact he was nude, and began to shake him by the shoulders.

“Archie, you idiot! You magnificent, genius, fool! You could have died!” she lectured him.

Archie managed a smile between coughs. “You...you’re welcome.”

Marvin sat himself heavily onto the nearest bench. The water smelled terrible, and was likely irradiated and untreated, but for the moment he simply didn’t care. The fire in the kitchen was dying down. They’d be able to stick it out in the school for some time, more.

‘For how long’ was a question for later.


	8. Chapter 8

Marvin sniffed, squat, and struggled to loosen the binding around the lieutenant’s wrists and ankles. The intruders -- or perhaps, more accurately termed “pirates” -- employed resourcefulness and used simple handkerchiefs to tie up the few soldiers they had left alive, and tied them in such a fashion that any movement or struggle simply caused the knot to tighten further. Add to that a hearty soaking from the sprinkler system, and instead of loosening the threads and fibres, the knot became nigh on impossible to manipulate.

“Just go get a knife, kid, quit struggling,” Grober muttered gruffly. Marvin ignored him. The fire in the kitchen was out, but so were all the lights. Use of the sprinkler system seemed to be what ended up as the final, dying act of the emergency generators. 

The air was humid and thick, though the fire was out, and a small amount of hazy smoke lingered near the ceiling. The warm, orange glow of the battery powered lantern seemed far weaker than ever. Marvin didn’t realize how much he appreciated the emergency lighting until that point. His fingers felt stiff and clunky as he continued to pick at the knots.

Dottie had found a first aid kit that still had some supplies in it. By some miracle, the bandages were still wrapped in plastic, saving them from the dousing of the sprinklers and the permeable nature of the cheap plastic casing of the mounted kit. She had busied herself tending to the burns on Archie’s body; a large one on his upper left arm was particularly bad. Lenny, summoned back to the present with the disaster of the fire, posted himself with Booker, whose tight embrace of Clyde remained steadfast.

“There’s probably some fabric shears, or bandage scissors, in that first aid kit,” Grober offered, unprompted.

“Probably,” Marvin replied, feeling annoyed. His fingers continued to cramp and slip on the fabric, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t in any rush to release the soldiers. 

For months, they’d been kept captive in that damn school, all for some experiment issued by the government. Forced to stay inside, separated from their families. Hell, even force fed food that had been tampered with in some way. And for what?

All for it to come crashing down over the course of a couple hours in a single afternoon. All of it.

Anger bubbled and brewed, hotter and stronger, in Marvin’s heart, as he continued to try and undo the knots with his hands. Grober sighed and shifted, seemingly in an attempt to settle himself more comfortably. He let out a small exclamation of pain as the knots drew themselves ever tighter around his wrists.

Grober made one last plea. “Look, just bring that kit over here, and I’ll look for the scissors myself, okay?” 

“Don’t help him,yet,” Archie called from nearby. “How did they overtake you?”

Grober leaned his head back against the wall and sighed. “What?”

“I counted them,” Archie continued. “If you include that person who simply left, there were only sixteen who came down here and took some cases of food. But you had almost fifty personnel.”

There was a heavy pause. “Yes. ‘Had,’” Grober added, vaguely.

Marvin retracted his hand. He refused to let Grober simply end it there. “What does that mean?”

Grober did not immediately reply. Farleigh raised his head and answered, instead. “It means that for several weeks, now, nearly twenty of our men simply stopped...functioning. A few more disappeared here and there, during the night, and never came back.” He shrugged. “Simple truth is we were outnumbered.”

“None of that still makes any sense,” declared Archie. Dottie did not look up from wrapping a bandage around his arm.

“How did you make it seem like you had fifty personnel, when twenty had turned into zombies?” she asked.

Marvin swallowed. He wracked his brain over the last several weeks, but in his disconnect and depression, he had to admit to himself he had not at all paid any attention to the staffing, or lack thereof. 

Farleigh continued. “It was easy enough. Double duty, for the most part, and letting you kids basically do whatever you wanted. It kept you focus on whatever was making you happy and less on whether you were being watched the whole time.”

“Just cut these off and let us go. It’s over, we know it,” grumbled Koch.

Marvin sat back onto the wet floor, instead. “It is over,” he agreed. “What did you do with them?”

“Who?” Farleigh asked.

“The zombies,” Dottie answered. Marvin looked over his shoulder and saw her make eye contact with him. For the first time, he didn’t feel annoyed that she was picking up what he was putting down.

None of the soldiers replied right away. Marvin simply waited. Grober muttered something.

“What was that?” Marvin snapped.

“Chemistry room. Southwest wing. The dangerous substances locker,” Grober repeated at a level that Marvin could hear. “Dangerous substances removed already, of course.”

Marvin rose to his feet and picked up the lantern next to the door.

“Marvin, wait, I’ll come with you,” Dottie called, tying up the bandage she was working on.

“I’ll be fine. Stay with Archie, maybe see if there’s some water. At least cans don’t burn.” He paused at the door and nodded at the soldiers. “Don’t release them until I get back.”

Marvin’s worn, cracked, but well loved Chucks squeaked on the linoleum for a handful of steps as he began his journey through the hallways. There was a little light to be enjoyed as the sun, preparing to set, filtered in through the west-facing classroom windows. The ones that weren’t buried under rubble and ruin, of course. For the first time in months, the facility was truly empty, and the stillness threatened to seep into Marvin like a chill.

_ Don’t be silly. The place was mostly empty for a while. It’s just quiet,  _ he nervously attempted to assure himself. Regardless, he was more aware of the rhythmic clicking of the rubber and plastic combination of the soles of his shoes echoing against the walls as he wove through the corridors.

He kept his eyes forward, for the most part, simply focused on his task, though he did occasionally steal a glance outside. Part of him kept hoping he’d see Lucas and Rhonda out front, having come to their senses, and decided to return to the structural safety of the school. 

He was going to miss them. He missed them already. The sudden realization that they were the closest he had to family hit him like a bolt of lightning. They were his only family left, and they were gone.

He felt absolutely moronic for having consciously elected to shut everyone out for the past month and a half, having told himself none of them would have understood the anguish he felt at encountering his mother as an irradiated shadow of her former self. He thought of Rhonda, just that morning, shrieking and biting to chase after Lucas, and what she must have felt in that moment. He thought of Booker, who transformed into an absolute wreck after Clyde was fatally shot.

Everyone else had realized that they had become each other’s families. Yet he’d spent all that time, wallowing in his own pity, and nearly everyone was gone.

Maybe they’d come back.

He hoped they’d somehow be okay.

Marvin wiped his eyes with the back of his soggy sleeve and continued on. He had the rest of his known lifetime to mourn them, he supposed. On that final, depressing thought, he turned the corner and entered the chemistry wing. He held the lantern out in front of him once more; the chemistry classrooms were explicitly designed without windows. As he entered the last classroom on his left, he wondered to himself who really thought it was a good idea to house photosensitive and potentially explosive compounds in a high school, anyway?

_ The same people who thought to build a fallout shelter underneath it, probably. _

He came to a jolted stop when the sound of shuffling hit his ears. Marvin released his breath in a single puff and stood stock still for more than a few moments. The shuffling had paused. It resumed, briefly, from a different part of the room.

They were in there, all right.

Marvin lifted his lantern, his trembling arm causing the light to quiver and shake as it illuminated the workbenches and walls. It also illuminated the locked, steel cage at the very back of the room, housing dark, hunched figures. He swallowed and took deliberate, slow steps towards it. The figures inside the cage turned to the sound of his approach, seemingly ignoring the added light. Many of them made vocal responses, though they were guttural and wordless.

It smelled like sweat and decay, and for some reason, kind of metallic. The air was funky and humid, though not as warm as one would have expected from a group of bodies in such close quarters. Marvin stood, his throat dry, his heart pounding. He stared at the humanesque shapes, unable to truly believe what he saw. Even the students whose mental condition had deteriorated had maintained most of their physical features. The soldiers had not. They were all missing most, if not all, of their hair, giving their faces an alien-like appearance due to their lack of eyebrows. Their skin had greyed considerably, and weight loss had caused their skin to droop and hang at their joints, like in the elbows.

They made no move or attempt to communicate with Marvin. They simply stared back at him. Marvin took two slow steps to the side to see what they would do. They turned their heads, following him with their gaze. He stepped back. Their heads turned back.

It was heartbreak stacked onto the heartbreak he was already carrying. He had no emotional investment in any of those folks -- and truly, they assisted in causing the mess that he and his fellow students had to endure for the past several months -- but seeing them there, mindless husks of who they used to be, victims of a war they fought but didn’t cause…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He stood for a minute more. A minute was all it took for him to make up his mind. He reached for the gate and pulled, but it was locked tight. Marvin crossed the room to the teacher’s desk and found all of its drawers were already open.  _ No chance at finding the key in there, it would seem. _

Marvin exited the room and marched directly back to the cafeteria. Grober seemed to have dozed off while he waited for the junior’s return. Archie and Dottie had both joined Lenny in sitting with Booker. In the dim light, their shadowed, sunken features and soaked hair made them look like swamp creatures from a science fiction feature. They turned in unison to the sound of his entry to the cafeteria. The vision was more than a little haunting. Instead of engaging with his peers, he strolled directly to stand in front of Grober. Marvin kicked the bottom of the lieutenant’s broken boot savagely to wake the soldier.

Grober spluttered and coughed, having been woken up in the middle of a particularly wet snore.

Marvin was beyond pleasantries. “Where’s the key?”

“Key?” Grober feigned innocence.

“The key to the cage. I refuse to let them stay locked in there. Give me the key. I let them out, then cut your ties.”

Even in the poor lighting, Marvin could see Grober narrowing his brows. There was a long pause before he finally spoke. “I will give you the key. You will do those two things, as you have said, and then that is the last time you will ever direct me and my actions. Are we clear?”

Marvin swallowed. He was still aggravated, but didn’t have any reason not to comply. Whatever the basis was for the government’s study, without the altered food or the students to feed it to, it couldn’t continue. Grober no longer had any authority. “Fine,” Marvin exhaled. He held out his hand.

Grober awkwardly turned to his side, exposing a pocket in his jacket. He nodded. “In there.”

Marvin pinched the keys between his fingers and extracted them as if he expected them to explode. “Great. See you in a minute, then.” He straightened and left the cafeteria, lantern in hand, once more.

“Marvin, wait, please!” cried Dottie from behind him. She was running towards him. “I’m coming with you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Ah, sure. Okay.” He wasn’t about to admit he’d enjoy the company in the empty halls. “This way.”

“Did you know? That they had locked up their own, I mean,” Dottie asked.

“I had no idea. Did you?”

Dottie shook her head. 

“I’m letting them out. You caught that part, right?” Marvin added, his tone more gruff than he’d intended.

“Yeah. You think I’m coming with you to take notes on them, don’t you?”

Marvin slowed, then stopped walking altogether. “Well…”

Dottie stopped walking, too, and shrugged. “It’s fine. And, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to at least take a very close  _ look _ at them.” She waved a hand in no particular direction. “A lot of things happened, today, and really quickly. I don’t want anyone to be alone, if I can help it.”

Marvin blinked. Her words were, for once, really sweet and thoughtful. He tried to tell himself that  _ she _ just didn’t want to be alone, when he remembered that everyone else left in the building were the handful of folks in the cafeteria, and the zombies in the chemistry room. “I was just there, though. I’ll be okay.”

“Marvin.” Her tone was completely serious. “I know you didn’t want anyone taking care of you. You’ve been shut off for weeks. That was your choice, and everything, but after today...well. I’m going to take care of you. You can’t stop me.”

Marvin didn’t know what to say. He hated that she was right, he’d been trying to keep everyone at arm’s length for some time. He hated that he knew she was going to do what she wanted, whether he liked it or not. He hated himself for being glad that she was still there.

He sniffed, and broke eye contact. “Okay, I guess.”

“ _ Marvin _ !” Dottie exclaimed with a sigh. “Stop it, already! It’s okay to let someone in.”

Marvin rocked back on his heels. “I don’t...it’s not really that, Dottie.” He paused, as he tried to find the words to describe how he was feeling -- or perhaps more accurately, wasn’t. “Something inside me has just shut off, or disappeared, or something. Those soldiers, locked up in that room, I know they didn’t deserve to just be corralled like that, and that’s why I have to let them out. I’m livid with Lucas and Rhonda taking off like they did. But that’s...it. I don’t know what to care about, anymore. And I don’t know if it even matters.”

“Oh,” Dottie replied in a small voice.

“Yeah,” Marvin shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

Another pause. When Dottie didn’t speak further, Marvin picked up his stride again. He listened to the familiar sound of his own feet against the floor, with the added clicking of Dottie’s mary-janes. The small amount of sun that had permeated the dusty halls was beginning to fade quickly, making it necessary to navigate by the light of the lantern.

“I know you hated me,” Dottie blurted as they turned a corner.

Marvin spluttered to a stop once more. “What? I mean -- no, that’s --”

“Shut up. I know it. And you know what else, I didn’t even care. I kept picking on you because of it.”

Marvin rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted.

“Can I tell you something?”

_ Do I have a choice? _ “Okay.”

“I used to pick on you, all of you, but mainly you, because it still forced you to pay attention to me.” Dottie, for once, appeared to feel awkward. She idly picked at some skin around a fingernail. They both stared in horror as it released her entire fingernail, which fell to the floor. To make the situation even more disturbing, her finger didn’t bleed, and she didn’t even appear to be in any sort of pain. “Wow. I guess now I know what it must feel like to be an oak tree in autumn.” Dottie tucked her hands behind her back. “Um, but, yeah. I used to just annoy you because it made you have to respond to me.”

Marvin shook his head slowly. “That’s...what was wrong with you? Why didn’t you just, I don’t know, ask to sit with us at lunch, like normal people?”

“Normal? How was I really supposed to do that? None of you had the time of day for anyone but each other.”

“That’s not true.” Marvin felt himself become very defensive. “You didn’t give us a reason to like you! Who just invites their bully to lunch?”

“Well, okay, but what about --”

“No, there’s no ‘what about,’ you were always so mean to us! You are not going to blame us for the way you treated, well, us. No way.”

“Marvin, look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just finally being honest with you, and myself.”

“Well good,” Marvin snarled. “Do you feel better, now? Got it off your conscience?”

Dottie stomped her foot, her hands balled up in child-like rage. “I’m trying to apologize! I know now it was the wrong way to go about it, so I’m saying that I’m sorry.”

“Great! Fine! Good for you!”

“Oh, like you’re so innocent. It’s amazing you even had friends, considering how far your own head was up your ass. If it weren’t for the fact you were at school, I bet you never would have even noticed the nukes came down around our ears!”

Marvin narrowed his gaze. He realized he had clenched his own fists, and released them. With a deep sigh, he turned, and continued walking. Dottie squawked and scrambled to catch up.

“Marvin, what --”

“It doesn’t matter now, right? None of that matters.” He turned the final corner and slowed his pace, holding the lantern out in front of him. “We were all stupid, you know? All we cared about was the politics and drama, and then the nukes came down around our ears and surprised us all. It all stopped being important, in a matter of seconds.” Marvin gestured towards the end classroom on the left.

Dottie timidly entered the room, squinting in the low light. She stopped and gasped when she spotted the soldiers. They still stood along the metal walls, staring into the room, exactly as Marvin had left them. “Oh, my god. It’s so bad.”

Marvin nodded. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and approached the gate. The second key he tried was the fit. He stopped himself just before turning it and looked at Dottie. “They don’t seem to want to be aggressive towards us, but I don’t know what they will do once the gate is open. If you want to leave…”

“Nope.” Dottie’s face was remarkably pale, but she stood her ground. “Go ahead.”

Marvin swallowed, and turned the key. The lock released and the gate loosened in its frame. Marvin pulled the gate open. It swung smoothly on hinges not yet affected by time and neglect. He’d half expected the deteriorated soldiers to immediately flood out in a shuffled stampede, but instead, they seemed unaware of the change in their imprisonment. Marvin blinked.

“They’re not moving,” Dottie vocalized for both of them.

“Come on, fellas,” Marvin waved. “You’re free to leave. They shouldn’t have locked you up, and all I can say is that I’m sorry.” There were a few guttural, throaty sounds, and some shuffling, but it was impossible to know whether or not that was in any direct response to Marvin’s voice or presence. He turned to Dottie. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“There’s nothing else  _ to _ do, I don’t think.” She was still visibly shaken by the soldiers in front of her. “These poor people.”

“I know,” Marvin replied softly. He removed the key from the gate, then from the keyring itself. He stared at it in his hand, wondering what to do with it.

“Here.” Dottie gently took the key from Marvin’s open hand. She stepped through the gate and approached the nearest soldier. She moved slowly, but deliberately, as though she were entering the cage of a predator, though the deteriorated soldiers had not yet demonstrated any level of threat. Marvin watched as she knelt, and dropped the key into the nearest one’s boot. The soldier didn’t even flinch. Rather than turn, Dottie walked backward toward the gate. Marvin stretched out his hand, then directed her back around once she reached it. They both turned, then, and left the classroom.

They were down the hall and around the corner before Marvin realized he’d left his arm around Dottie’s shoulders, but he made no move to take his arm down. Her blouse was still damp from the sprinklers, but her skin was surprisingly neither particularly warm or cool. She seemed to have noticed his arm was there at the same time he did, and instead of dipping out from under it, she leaned her head onto his shoulder. He made no move to stop her, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it, either.

It reminded him that he probably should address Archie’s hand holding, as well. 

_ Probably. _

The real truth was that inside, he just didn’t care. If holding his hand made Archie feel a bit better, if leaning on his shoulder made Dottie feel better, then who was he to tell them to stop?

Just because he was hollow inside didn’t mean he should expect the same from everyone else.

They were on the final approach to the cafeteria. Dottie straightened and gestured towards the door. “Do you have a plan for Grober?”

“Actually, yeah. Could you grab the bandage scissors?”

“Yes.” Dottie stepped out from his arm, then, and strode directly to the first aid kit. She brought them to Marvin who stood looming over the soldiers.

“Well? Cut us out, already,” Grober barked. “Please.”

Marvin knelt and snipped the handkerchiefs that bound their ankles, then rose. “Get up. We’re going to walk you to the door, then untie your hands.”

“You little bastard!” barked Roch, swinging his arms around in some attempt to strike Marvin. The result was the handkerchief tightening even more painfully around his wrists. Grober and Farleigh, seemingly resolved to their fate, simply complied with Marvin’s request.

“Move.” 

Marvin, Lenny, and Archie accompanied the three remaining soldiers through the dark hallways, and down the stairs to the lower floor. “Oh god,” Lenny coughed, covering his nose with his sleeve. “Do you guys smell that? Did something die down here?”

“Yeah, actually. All the rest of the teachers,” Archie replied with no emotion.

Lenny paused. “What?”

No one replied. Marvin led their little group directly to the emergency exit door, and without any additional ceremony, unlocked it and swung it open. It was nearly full dark, then, the late twilight turning into another winter night. The only light seen just outside the door came from the exit sign and the orange glow of the lantern in Archie’s hands. Marvin handed the bandage scissors to Lenny and pointed outside, directing his next words to the soldiers. “Go.”

“Listen, kid, you’re making a mistake. We can all just stay here and survive together. No government experiments, no rules or routines.” Grober’s tone was soft, almost friendly. “What do you say?”

“No,” Marvin replied tersely.

“Why?” Lenny asked.

“Wait,” Archie interjected. Marvin and Lenny both rounded on Archie, causing the sophomore to shrink just a little. “It might not be such a bad idea to have some guys around who know how to use a gun...right?”

Marvin and Lenny exchanged a look. Lenny shook his head. Marvin looked back at Archie. “We can’t trust these guys, Archie, and frankly, I don’t care to have to give them any more of my time or energy to find out if they’re not going to sell us out or shoot us in the back.”

“Exactly,” Lenny chimed.

Archie sighed. He nodded shortly and said nothing more. Marvin turned to the soldiers and once again waved them out the door.

“You’ll be sorry,” Roch growled smugly.

“We’ll see,” Lenny replied. “Here ya go!” Without further preamble, he threw the bandage scissors out the door. They hit the concrete wall and fell to the ground with a metallic clinking.

Grober swore. Marvin swiftly swung the steel door shut and locked it, closing the soldiers out into the darkness, to find and operate the scissors on their own in the dark. Lenny lifted his hand in a jovial gesture of celebration. Marvin couldn’t help but smile and complete the high five.

“Do you think they’ll try to come back in here?” Archie asked, sounding defeated.

“I doubt it. There’s nothing left here, not even food or weapons.” Lenny shrugged. “Those military types are smart. They’re probably going to hunt down where those invaders came from, steal what they need, and just move on.”

“What are we going to do?”

Marvin reached over and gently touched Archie on the back of his shoulder. “We’re going to go upstairs and do something about Clyde, and maybe find something to eat.”

“Okay.”

“You know,” Lenny began, a curious tone to his voice, “now that you say that, I actually am not hungry.”


	9. Chapter 9

_ June, 2079. _

“Happy graduation day!” chirped Dottie, which sounded more like a gargling croak to everyone’s ears. All of their voices had slowly devolved over the course of the year and a bit, though they had maintained all of their mental acuities. After their hair and some of their skin and nails, their voices were the last to change. She plunked a paper mortar board hat on top of Marvin’s head.

He blew the tassel off of his face and turned to smirk at Dottie. “I was kind of expecting a party hat.”

Dottie gasped. “Did I miss your birthday?”

“I don’t know, actually. It’s June 23, but do any of us know what day it is?”

Lenny tossed a bottle cap off the edge of the siding. The group had taken to sitting out on the roof of the building and had set up some chairs, a couple side tables, and a pair of binoculars, along with a couch they'd plundered on one of their few expeditions off the school grounds. He chuckled at the sound of it pinging off the side of the dumpster, below. “It’s kind of sweet you remembered we would have been graduating this month.” He paused. “I can’t remember the last time we talked about anything from...before.”

“Me, neither,” Booker agreed. He closed the biophysics textbook he’d been reading for leisure and let it drop to the surface of the roof.

“Well, congratulations to you all, then.” Archie was stretched out across the ruined couch, his arms crossed behind his head. He straightened up, and swung his legs to surface of the roof. Marvin saw then that his friend was smiling. Archie was wearing a t-shirt. His old burn wound was easily visible. The wound had healed as best as it could, but the skin never grew back. It was like a small crater on his upper arm. Archie claimed it didn’t pain or bother him at all, but when Marvin was honest with himself, he found it difficult to look at. “We should pass out a round of Nuka Colas later, to celebrate.”

“Or we can all just split one,” smiled Dottie.

“Or that,” Archie agreed. They’d all only picked at food and drink for several months, finding an unnatural decrease in their appetites and hunger as time went on, with no mortal consequences. Whatever substances had been in the tampered food had certainly changed their genetic structures, permanently.

“That poor bastard,” Lenny sighed, pointing at the defunct school bus across the road. They all joined him at the edge of the roof to follow his point. 

“I don’t see anyone,” Booker muttered.

“Just wait,” Lenny prompted. Eventually, a humanoid figure emerged from the other side of the bus, shoulders hunched, making slow progress along the back of the abandoned vehicle in a shuffling advancement towards the main doors of the former school.

“Hold on,” began Marvin. “Is that…?”

“Grober!” Dottie exclaimed. “But, what’s he doing here?”

“I doubt even he knows,” sighed Booker. “Look. He’s acting like the rest of them did.”

They stared in silence as they watched Grober slowly shuffle his way across the pavement. As he got closer, Marvin could see it wasn’t just Grober’s mental state that had deteriorated, but his uniform was little more than rags clinging to his withered body, and he was completely missing his left boot. Grober blinked slowly and his head flicked from side to side, reminiscent of a bird.

“Hey, Grober!” Archie yelled -- or what passed for yelling, in the state their vocal cords had reached. “Grober! Up here!”

The rest watched. Grober tilted his head from side to side and lifted his empty gaze. He stared at the students standing on the roof, and they stared back.

“Grober? Sir?” called Dottie in a throaty croak.

Grober made a noise that was some combination of a gurgle and a snarl, but Marvin had no idea if that were in response to anything, or just Grober being...changed. He dropped his gaze and looked around. Something seemed to catch his eye. Grober made inquiring grunts, took a couple steps, then squat and picked up something small and metallic off the ground.

A bottle cap.

“Grober, hey! It’s us!” Marvin tried one last time. Grober made no indication he heard nor understood the words. He made a satisfied growl, put the cap into the only intact pocket on his pants, then turned and slowly shuffled away.

“Fucking depresssing,” muttered Lenny.

“For him, maybe,” shrugged Booker.

Archie meandered back to the couch. “In one way, if not for him and the government, we all probably would have died a long time ago. Now, it seems, we’ll live indefinitely.”

“Until someone mistakes one of us for one of them,” Marvin pointed out. They’d witnessed more than a few gunshots aimed at the degenerated ones, and while the few of them had retained their wits and most of their physical features, he didn’t want to imagine that in low light or from a distance, some survivor was going to take the chance that they weren’t aggressive.

“We’ll live for a while,” Dottie added calmly. “Who’s ready to split that Nuke?”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read all the way to here...THANK YOU! I appreciate sticking with a story written for a story's sake. And now I'm off to tackle NaNoWriMo 2019!


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